


Found You

by WritingToKeepMySanity



Series: monstrosity 'verse [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, F/M, Kath's family shows up, Reincarnation, That's a tag I never thought I'd use, and implied sexy times, and then I started writing her brothers and couldn't stop, for slight language, honestly i've lost track of how many lives are mentioned, rated T for teens, the boys are the Best Bros, they weren't supposed to, this is the monstrosity fic tumblr warned you about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity
Summary: It wasn't the same, each life they were reincarnated into.Sometimes they were royals, forced into an arranged marriage. Sometimes they met as children, grew up together. Sometimes he found her first. Sometimes she found him.Sometimes they didn't find each other at all.





	1. Prologue/Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So there's this song. It's called "Then I See You Again", and it was the original duet between Jack and Katherine in Newsies. It's beautiful and wonderful and I'm very sad that it was cut from the show (arguably, I like it much more than "Something to Believe In")
> 
> Anyways, here's the fic that was inspired by it.
> 
> NOTE: I did not use the entire song, and some of the lyrics are a little out of order to fit my story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Katherine meet, seemingly for the first time.

_Most things just are what they are / So why not give in and let go_

There’s a sharp tug on her braid, and Katherine tries to ignore it. She’s going to prove to everyone that she belongs here, even if she’s not a boy. She’s not going to be provoked.

Another tug. “Psst.”

Katherine straightens her shoulders, continues to write on her slate.

Another tug, accompanied by a “Psst… hey! Hey, Carrots!”

Whipping around, Katherine doesn’t even think as she brings down her slate on the boy’s head with a sharp _crack!_

***

Jack leans against the railing, pulls his boots off. The girl eyes him warily over the bow of the boat.

“The fall alone will kill you. You’re crazy.”

He huffs a laugh. “That’s what ev'ryone says but, with all due respect, Miss, I ain’t the one hangin’ off the back of a ship.” Holding out a hand to her, Jack pleads softly. “C’mon, give me ya hand. Ya don’t wanna do this.”

***

“Mornin’ miss. Can I int’rest ya in today’s pape?”

Her eyes flick downwards before she lifts her chin defiantly. She isn’t going to be flustered by a Newsie trying to make a sell. “Today’s paper isn’t even out.”

“Well, I would be happy ta deliver it ta ya personally,” he says with a smirk.

Darcy steps toward him like he’s about to tell him off, but Katherine stops him, steps up to the newsboy herself. “Here’s a headline for you,” she says with a slight smirk of her own. “‘Cheeky Boy Gets Nothing For His Trouble’.”

_And then I see you again / And I know_

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

_Most things just are what they are / And not what we wish they could be_

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep—_

Katherine groaned as she sat up, turning off her alarm. With a glare to her phone screen, she swung her legs out from under the comforter, starting her morning routine.

Walking through her living room after her shower, Katherine clicked on the TV, flipping to the news channel as she started the coffeemaker.

This was the only time she watched the news—she saw enough of the dark side of humanity, working for the paper. A half hour of cable news in the morning was enough for her before she was suddenly submerged in it for the rest of the day.

She was on her second cup of coffee and nibbling on a piece of toast when her phone rang, playing the stupid ringtone Darcy had chosen for her phone.

“Hi, Darcy,” she said, answering her phone.

_“Kath, are you running late? I’m outside your building.”_

Furrowing her brow, Katherine looked over her shoulder to the clock on the microwave, then pulled her phone away from her ear to double-check. “I’m not late, Darce. You’re twenty minutes early.”

Darcy was quiet for a long moment before saying, only half-joking, _“A wizard is never late—”_

Rolling her eyes and downing the last gulp of her coffee, Katherine cut him off. “I’ll be down in ten, Gandalf.”

Darcy, bless him, had brought her another coffee. It almost made her forgive him for interrupting her morning.

It was pretty routine for them. Katherine never really learned how to drive, and would probably be too impatient to, anyways, and she and Darcy worked at the paper together, so it made sense to ride in together.

They talked about assignments they were working on, joked about which ugly suit Denton would wear that day (while an extremely nice guy, their boss was not the snappiest dresser), fought over the radio station.

Much to her parent’s chagrin, she and Darcy had never been _together._ They’d practically been raised together; he was as much her brother as Ralph and Joey were.

“Okay, so winner picks dinner Friday night?” she asked, as they pulled into a parking space. Once a month, if their schedules worked out, Katherine and Darcy got dinner and talked about anything but work.

Darcy nodded. “But I’m telling you—it’s going to be the mustard yellow one.”

Katherine shook her head. “No way. Gray suit for sure.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Opening the car door, pulling her bag over her shoulder, she answered, “He wore the mustard yellow suit last Thursday. Denton’s definitely the kind of person who goes through all his clothes before even considering laundry.”

“Okay Kath,” Darcy said, rolling his eyes a bit. “When I win, we’re getting Mexican.”

“When _I_ win, we’re getting sushi,” Katherine said, closing the door to his car with finality.

Walking ahead of him towards the building, she pulled open the door, balancing her coffee in one hand.

“Oh, good. Katherine, this just came for you,” Aisha, their receptionist, said, holding a thick envelope she’d just taken from a bike messenger.

“Hey, great!” Katherine said, taking it from Aisha and tucking it under her arm. She’d been waiting a week for these—she was hoping it was the last piece she needed for her article. “I can sign for it.”

The messenger pulled his stylus and handheld computer from his bag. “Jus’ sign there on the line.”

As she signed, Katherine caught a glimpse of his bike from the corner of her eye. “I like your bike.” It looked like any other messenger bike she’d seen, except it was a bright yellow and had what looked like baseball cards clipped to the wheels.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “Sets me apart from the other messengers.”

She smiled. “That’s how you do it. Here you go,” Katherine handed him back his device and stylus.

Slipping the items back in his bag, the messenger nodded to Katherine and Aisha before wheeling his bike back out the door, where Darcy was just entering.

“What’ve you got there, Kath?”

She hefted the heavy envelope for him to see as they moved further into the building, towards their respective desks. “Another exciting day of reading paperwork.”

“Any journalist worth their salt knows paperwork is an integral part of the job,” Darcy reminded her.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Wow, you sounded just like my dad then. Thanks, Darce.”

He laughed as he passed her desk, heading towards his desk. “Anytime, Kath.”

Katherine sat in her chair, dropping her bag next to her desk and reaching down to turn on her computer. As it slowly booted up, she opened the envelope, rifling through the papers, hopeful.

Setting it next to her keyboard, she looked up in time to see Bryan Denton walk by her desk. “Staff meeting in five, Katherine!”

“Yes sir,” she replied, ducking to hide her grin as she picked up her phone.

_Gray polyester. I win. Sushi Friday night._

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Hours later, Katherine stood from her desk and stretched, picking up her purse and jacket. If she had to stare at one more dead end, she was going to _scream_.

Waving to Aisha on her way out, Katherine crossed her arms, and put her head down, taking a left outside the building and making her way down the busy sidewalk.

_I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…_

And she did. Truly. She’d wanted to be in the newspaper business since she was old enough to string words into sentences on paper. And, logically, Katherine knew she was making a difference with her words. She’d uncovered three major business scams and scandals since becoming an investigative journalist.

Not bad for someone who’d only gotten out of entertainment four years ago.

But days like this, after hitting dead end after dead end, it was hard to not feel discouraged.

She’s not sure how long she walked, wrapped up in her thoughts, before she knocked shoulders with someone walking opposite of her.

Turning to apologize, Katherine looked up into the face of a guy about her age, a little taller than her, a square jaw dusted with scruff and green eyes that peered at her from under the brim of a newsboys cap.

“Sorry, miss,” he said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing on his way.

Suddenly, she was slammed with an onslaught of mental images. Not images, per se, more like… memories.

_Crumpled papers fall from above. The start of their strike._

_He’s an incorrigible flirt._

_She pretends not to love it._

_She celebrates their front-page story with the other Newsies._

_A rooftop kiss, filled with hope for beginnings, fear for endings. She wonders if he’ll leave her._

_Victory. They win. He’s staying._

_“For sure?”_

_“For sure.”_

_I have to find Jack,_ she thought.

But... who was Jack? What had just happened?

“Miss? Hey, you okay?” A voice poked at the edge of her consciousness, but it sounded far away, underwater. Large hands, warm hands, held hers. “Hey, breathe. It’s okay.” One hand slid up to cup her shoulder.

Katherine blinked hard, and she was back in reality, on a busy sidewalk. Somehow, she’d ended up on the hard concrete, her back against a lamppost. And there  _he_  was, squatting in front of her, looking concerned.

There was no way for her to know it, but it had to be, there was no doubt… “Jack?”

She was close enough to see tiny gold flecks in his green eyes, smell the spearmint of his gum. His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“’M sorry, do we know each other?”

Moving her hands down to grip his forearms, Katherine stammered out. “No—Maybe—Probably n—I don’t know. What happened?”

He shook his head. “I dunno, exactly. I bumped into ya back there and heard ya fall. You got real pale and you were shakin'. Looked like a panic attack or somethin’. Are ya okay? Can ya tell me your name?”

“Katherine P-Plumber.” She flushed, hoped he didn’t notice the slight stumble. What was wrong with her?

“Are you sure?” He looked so concerned for the random woman on the ground who couldn’t remember her own name.

She nodded quickly. “Yeah, yes. I’m fine… Or, I will be.”

Jack nodded, taking her hands again. “Okay, Katherine. Do you think you can stand?” At her affirmative nod, he slowly helped her stand up, making sure she was steady before letting go. Katherine curled her hands into fists at the loss of warmth, silently berating herself for the reaction.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asked, still looking concerned for her.

“Uhm,” Katherine was still disoriented from the—vision? Dream? Memory? Where had she just been? “Work. Work is that way.”

He picked up a satchel he’d obviously set down when he’d come to her aid and slung it over his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

They walked in—awkward wasn’t the right word, but definitely not completely comfortable—silence for a few minutes. Logically, Katherine knew she should be, at the very least, wary about this guy. This was New York, who stopped to help strangers anymore?

But there was something about him, something reassuring and… familiar, and she couldn’t understand her almost-immediate trust in him, but. It was there.

Suddenly he asked, interrupting her thoughts, “So, who’s your Jack?”

Katherine flinched, crossing her arms to cover it. “I’m sorry?”

Jack shrugged. “You called me ‘Jack’ back there. Which, to be fair, is my name, but—” he glanced sideways at her “—I’m sure we’ve never met before. I would’ve remembered you.”

It sounded like one of those lines that typically made her scoff and roll her eyes, and she almost did, but she had to think of something, anything, to explain how she knew his name.

Even if she couldn’t explain it to herself.

“He’s… an old friend, of mine,” Katherine said. “You look like him, reminded me of him, and… I got confused.”

_Not bad for thinking on your feet._

“What, is he a handsome, charmin' hero-type, too?”

She did scoff at that and rolled her eyes at that. “Is that what you call yourself? A hero?”

“I did just save the lady in distress, didn’t I?” he pointed out, straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest proudly.

Katherine was about to scathingly respond—she was _not_ in distress—when she looked up to realize they had arrived at the  _Sun_ ’s office building. She felt a pang of disappointment in her stomach she didn’t understand and tried to ignore. “Oh, this is me.”

Jack craned his neck, tipping the visor of his newsboys cap up to read the sign on the building in front of them. “The  _Sun_ , huh? You a reporter?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“I coulda worked here. Applied a year ago for the art department.” He shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

Katherine made a sympathetic noise. The _Sun_ was picky about their hires, it was a wonder to her sometimes how she’d even made it this far. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah,” Jack shrugged again. He didn’t seem too disappointed, but something flickered in his eyes.

“Well,” Katherine adjusted the strap of her purse. “Thank you, Jack, for helping me back there. And for walking me back to work.” She held out her hand, a little stiffly.

He shook her hand firmly, and she tried to ignore how warm his hand felt around hers, how well their palms fit against one another, how a tingle went up her arm. Then he dropped her hand and she tried to ignore how disappointed she felt.

“It was no problem, Katherine. I hope you’re feeling better.” He turned to walk away, and she had to catch herself from watching him leave.

Shaking her head, Katherine entered the building without a look back, determined to forget Jack.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine couldn’t forget Jack. All week she just… hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. Sure, she supposed he was handsome, but it was more than that. It was like… she’d been missing something in her life, and suddenly found it, but didn’t know what it was.

It was the memories that shook her the most. Or visions, or…

She didn’t know what to call them. But they felt so _real_. Like they’d been locked up inside her, and running into Jack had unlocked them.

And she couldn’t help but be reminded of a story her sister used to tell her, a story about people who led multiple lives.

People who came back time and time again as different people. And, sometimes, they had someone who came back with them. You could never have one without the other.

Could she and Jack…?

It seemed too crazy to believe, and yet… Katherine couldn’t shake the feeling that it could be possible.

And it was driving her crazy.

It was now Friday, and she hadn’t made much progress in her article or in this Jack business. And it was beginning to look like she wouldn’t be able to focus fully on her article until she figured out the Jack thing.

She dropped her head to her hands and groaned. Why was she so hung up on this guy? They’d spent five minutes together. Katherine hadn’t even given this much thought after her college boyfriend broke up with her, and they’d been together for half a year.

“Hey, you ready?” Darcy asked, interrupting her internal struggle.

Looking up to realize the floor was almost empty, most of the others having gone home, Katherine shook her head. “Sorry, Darcy, I’m going to have to be here a little longer. I can still do dinner,” she reassured him. “And I can catch a cab, don’t wait for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, absolutely. See you in a couple hours?”

He nodded, promising—with a slightly distasteful look—to pick up the sushi on his way to her place. Turning back to the stack of papers on her desk, Katherine was determined to finish the packet

After five minutes of reading the same sentence, she sighed loudly. There was something tugging at the back of her head, something that assured her she would finally have the answers she had about Jack.

Katherine needed to figure it out, if only so she could forget the whole thing and get back to work.

She sighed again and stood from her desk, going where she swore she’d never go again, not after she finally made it out of the intern pool.

The archives in the basement of the  _Sun_ ’s office.

It was dark, fairly dusty, and freezing. Boxes stacked up a dozen high with faded labels on the front.

The memories had mostly faded from Tuesday, but the one thing that had stuck with her, along with Jack’s face, was the date on a copy of the _Sun_.

 _July 21, 1899_.

Katherine vaguely remembered the basic layout of the basement from her days as an intern, so she slowly began making her way to the back of the room, trailing her fingers along the labels until she found a box marked _1899_.

Pulling the box off the shelf, Katherine sat on the floor, opening the lid and rifling through the collection of articles. About halfway through the stack, she stopped on an article with a large black and white photo and a bold, two-inch headline.

**NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD**

“The  _whole_  world?” Katherine asked aloud, disbelieving. Skimming through the article, she caught something about a Newsie Union and the name ‘Joseph Pulitzer’. “Oh.  _The World_. Clever.” She moved her eyes back up to read the byline.

_Katherine Plumber_

Her jaw dropped, and there was a queasy feeling in her stomach, like when she thought she might be right, but was really hoping she wasn’t.

Under the headline was a large photo of what she assumed was the Newsies Union, about twenty young boys in front of the circulation building, some with their arms raised, some looking proud, some glowering.

She paused at the young man standing in the middle, glaring at the camera. He had dark hair and an even darker scowl.

And he looked _extremely_ familiar.

“Jack?” she whispered.

Without warning, she was hit again with a deluge of memories she didn’t know she had.

 _She’s in Medda’s theater, reviewing the show._  

_She’s in Jacobi’s, asks him about his union and his strike._

_She writes her article, worries it’s not good enough._

_She encourages Jack to go back to the strike, to not give up, to fight for Crutchie._  

 _She’s in her father’s office, holds back tears when she sees the betrayed look on Jack’s face._  

 _She’s in the basement of the_  World _, printing the Banner_. 

 _She’s in Newsies Square, basking in their victory._  

And, just like that, every other past life is flashing in her mind’s eye. 

 _“Wanna Razzle?”_

_“Razzles are for kids,” she tries to say snootily, but he sees through it._

_“Exactly.” He pours the candy in her hand, and she pops it in her mouth. They stick their tongues out at each other, giggling at the bright red color the candy turned them._

_“Arrivederci.”_  

_“Au revoir.”_

***

 _“You’re a real Prince Charming, aren’t you?”_  

 _“I have a name, you know.”_  

_“Don’t care.” Names are dangerous. If she knows his name, she’ll get attached. She can’t afford to get attached. “Charming suits you.”_

***

 _“I guess we surprised everyone.”_  

 _He laughs. It’s bittersweet. “I guess we did.” She drops her head to his chest. She can’t believe he’s leaving. “I’ll never be sorry,” he says softly._  

_She looks him in the eye. “Neither will I.”_

And a dozen others, flickering past one another, blurring until she couldn’t see straight.

Katherine opened her eyes. “Oh my god. Oh my _god_ ,” she whispered.

It was true. It was all true, and she couldn’t believe it.

They had met before. _Many_ times, over thousands and thousands of years, if what she could remember was anything to go by. Her head was spinning, full of memories.

Scooping up the article, Katherine made her way out of the basement quickly, stopping at her desk only long enough to turn off her computer and sling her purse over her shoulder.

Folding the paper gently—it was so old, she was scared to rip it—she stuck it in her purse, said a quick goodbye to Aisha, who was just leaving, and hailed a cab back to her apartment.

Katherine was aware that she was bad company that night, giving weak answers and only half-listening to Darcy as they sat at the table in her kitchen.

“—therine? Kath, are you listening?”

“Hm?” she looked up at him, shaking her head a bit and laughing self-deprecatingly. “Sorry, Darcy. I’m just out of it tonight, I guess.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Darcy asked. “You’ve been ‘out of it’ all week.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Katherine tapped her chopsticks against the table. It didn’t make sense, shouldn’t be _at all_ possible, but maybe it would sound a little less crazy if she said it out loud.

Instead of answering Darcy, she stood from the table, going to the couch, where she’d dropped her purse earlier. She pulled the article out of her bag, laying it flat on the kitchen table. “Remember the guy on Monday? Who helped me after I… tripped?”

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Katherine pointed to Jack in the photo. “That’s him.”

“You mean… he looked like this guy?”

She shook her head. “No, I mean _that’s_ him. They’re identical, same name. There’s no difference.”

Looking up at her over his glasses, Darcy asked, “And this is important because…?”

“Look at the byline,” Katherine insisted, jabbing a finger at the name, _her_ name. “Katherine Plumber.”

In his I’m-trying-to-be-the-rational-one-here-because-you’re-not voice, Darcy said slowly, “It’s not exactly an uncommon name—”

“Darcy! You’re not—I’m trying to say—” she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Do you think… it’s possible that…” Katherine wasn’t sure how to ask the question without sounding crazy. “Do you think reincarnation is possible?”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine managed to wait until Darcy—who hadn’t believed her, not that she really expected him to—left before she began stalking Jack.

Well. ‘Stalk’ is such a strong word for what she was doing.

Technically, the official definition was to harass someone with unwanted attention. It wasn’t harassing if he didn’t know, right?

She was an investigative reporter, right? This was really just her doing her job.

Right?

“God, Plumber,” she muttered to herself. “You have lost it.”

Lost it or no, it didn’t stop her from entering his name in every search bar on every social media site she could think of.

She couldn’t explain it, but her crazy reincarnation theory didn’t feel so crazy anymore. Once she’d had a chance to sort through the many,  _many_ , memories she didn’t know she had, Katherine could remember going through this over and over. Remember, forget, new life, remember, forget, new life, again and again.

And, call her crazy, but—she wanted to see him again.

He didn’t have much of an Internet presence, she noticed. A years-old Facebook page that hadn’t been updated in eight months. No Twitter account, she found.

Katherine hit the jackpot with his Instagram account. He didn’t post many pictures of himself, mostly of a group of boys, goofing off around New York, including a video of one of them performing impressive vape tricks, and artwork she assumed was his.

A lot of the art, according to the captions, was from an online comic he wrote. The characters, a rag-tag team of misfits, seemed to resemble his group of friends. He was  _good_ , she noted. Better than good, it was fantastic.

It made her wonder just how good the other guy had to be for the _Sun_ ’s art department to pass over Jack.

Interspersed between the graphic comics and a shocking number of selfies from his friends, were sets he’d designed and built for Medda Larkin, a proprietor of a local theatre that had really taken off in the last year.

In fact, the  _Sun_  just ran a special on her a few months back.

She bit her lip, thinking. Katherine hadn’t worked the entertainment beat in three years. There was no way she’d be able to ask around about Medda without rousing suspicion, especially after she fought and clawed her way out.

She might have to get… Creative with how she approached this.

Oh, she was definitely crazy.

Picking up her phone, Katherine scrolled through her contacts, clicking on the name of someone who might be able to help.

“Liana? It’s Katherine. I need your help.”

_But the I see you again / And a new world starts spinning_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heart on the Trigger is being very difficult to finish right now, and I was too excited to share this, so please enjoy the first chapter of the monstrosity!
> 
> (this was supposed to be a oneshot, but then it got too long, so it's a multi-chapter now. Posting schedule to be Sundays and Thursdays!)
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!
> 
> ***
> 
> Inspirations for past lives:
> 
> Anne/Gilbert—Anne of Green Gables  
> Jack/Rose—Titanic  
> Matt/Jenna—13 Going On 30  
> Snow White/Charming—Once Upon a Time  
> Baby/Johnny—Dirty Dancing


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and the boys are... well, Jack and the boys.
> 
> (also my ducks headcanon comes back. you're welcome)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: the beginning of this chapter takes place the same night as Jack and Kath meet, and then moves on to catch up with Kath.

_Most things they are what they are / So why not pick up and go_

Jack couldn’t get Katherine P-Plumber out of his head. She kept poking at the edges of his thoughts, interrupting his daily routine. Which was stupid. She was just some woman he passed on the street and walked to work.

So why couldn’t he forget her?

Pushing open the door to his and Crutchie’s apartment, Jack hung up his keys on the hook next to the door and dropped his satchel.

He kicked off his shoes next to his bag, lining them up against the wall by his bag, thinking about the panicked look in her eyes before she managed to focus on him, how she knew his name—or guessed it he supposed, recalling how she said he reminded her of an old friend.

Passing through the living room, Jack saw his cell phone sitting next to his laptop on his desk.

“ _Right_ , that’s where I left it.” He’d realized he didn’t have it when he tried to find it after bumping into Katherine, thinking he might have to call an ambulance.

Dropping his hat on the desk and picking up his phone, he clicked the home button a couple of times, cursing under his breath when he realized it was dead.

Plugging the phone into its charger, he picked his laptop up. Moving into the kitchen, Jack sat down at the table and opened his laptop. He stared at the screen a long moment, the blinking cursor mocking him, before he slowly typed the website name in the search bar.

He wondered how creepy it was, that he was looking her up on the _Sun_ ’s website.

She was an investigative journalist, but he did find about a dozen entertainment articles she’d written a few years back. Leaning his head on his fist, Jack found her most recent article—one about a local politician and dirty money.

He didn’t read the _Sun_ —didn’t read many papers, if he was honest, and he had lingering bitter feelings after not getting the job—and he’d never been great about distinguishing a good writer from a great writer (something that nearly caused him to fail tenth-grade English), but Katherine… she was a great writer.

Dave and Crutchie burst through the door suddenly, talking over one another, interrupting Jack's thoughts and causing him to jump.

“Check his computer—”

“—Right, and his room. Maybe he left somethin’—”

“Guys?” Jack sat up from his place at the table. “What’cha lookin’ for?”

They froze, staring at him.

“What?”

Crutchie broke into a grin first, moving to wrap an arm around Jack’s shoulder, awkwardly maneuvering his crutch to do so.

Dave followed close behind. “Let a pal know you’re alive, wouldja?” he said exasperatedly, but Jack had known him long enough to know that was how Davey showed relief.

But... why was he so relieved to see Jack? Sure, he wasn't normally at the theater on Mondays, but Medda'd needed him there to finish the set pieces for her show comin' up, and the boys knew he'd be puttin' in more hours with opening night gettin' close.

“What, I leave my phone at home for one day, and you two send out a search party?” Crutchie hadn’t let go, yet, and Jack wrapped an arm around him. “Alright, now I’m scared, what happened?”

“Ya said last night that ya wished you’d gone West like ya always wanted to,” Crutchie said lowly, still holding on to Jack. “An’ then this mornin’ you were gone, and we couldn’t reach ya—”

“—Because I left my phone here.” Jack finished with a sigh. It was true. He’d been thinking about it a lot more lately, how he felt trapped in a city of bad memories, how maybe he should’ve moved to Santa Fe when he had the chance.

He knew better than to rant those feelings to Crutchie, though, who internalized things like that and had always had the worry that Jack would leave him behind to find a better life.

(Jack did run away, or tried too, a couple of times—once in the group home and once not long after they moved in with the Jacobs. After the second time, he promised Crutchie he wouldn’t again. But it didn’t mean he didn’t think about it every now and then)

“I left early this morning to get to the theater,” he explained. “Realized around lunch I didn’t have my phone. An’ Medda was runnin’ around today, so I just let the office phone ring. Sorry, fellas. Didn’t mean ta worry ya.”

Crutchie relaxed his grip, and Jack helped him get his balance back on his crutches.

Looking up at Dave, he asked, “How’ve ya been, Davey? Haven’t seen ya in a while. Good ta know you _do_ know the way out of your office.”

Dave sat down at the table across from Jack, Crutchie dropping into a chair as well. “Tell me, were we as irresponsible in college as my students are?”

“Davey, we raised ducks in our dorms. No one is, was, or will be as irrespons'ble as us.”

“Not the ducks,” Dave groaned. “I’d almost forgotten about them.”

Shutting his laptop, Jack clutched his chest dramatically. “Our _children_ , Davey. How could ya forget our children? D’ya even remember their names?”

“Do _you_?” Crutchie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you also forgot our children Puddles, James Pond, and Quakie Chan.”

Crutchie laughed. “He remembers.”

“They were our _children_ —”

Dave rolled his eyes. “I’m not havin’ this conversation with you again, Jack.”

Smirking, Jack dropped the subject, kicking at Dave’s foot under the table. “Ya stayin’ for dinner? Do we have food?” he asked Crutchie on an afterthought, who shrugged.

They were the worst at remembering whose turn it was to go grocery shopping which led to either too much food going bad in the fridge, or half a loaf of bread and ketchup.

“I think we have leftovers and pancake mix,” Crutchie offered.

Checking his watch, Dave shook his head, standing. “As great as... leftovers and pancakes sound, I have to get home, take a stab at the stack of papers that still need grading. I’ll see ya both Saturday though. Les is coming to help, too.”

Jack stood with him. “Good, I haven’t seen the kid in a while. He in your class?”

“Nah, I don’t get freshmen. ‘Sides, he’s in a whole different field as me.” Davey reached over to muss Crutchie’s hair. “See you Saturday.”

Crutchie swatted at him, trying to smooth his hair down. “See ya, Davey.”

Jack walked Dave to the door, hugging him before he left. He didn’t miss how his friend held him a little tighter than normal, just like Crutchie had, and he kicked himself for bein’ stupid.

Locking the door behind Davey, Jack turned to Crutchie. “So, kid. Whaddaya feel like? Leftovers or pancakes?”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

“Why were ya readin’ the _Sun_?” Crutchie asked as they were washed the dishes after dinner, which had been _both_ leftovers and pancakes. At Jack’s look, he rolled his eyes. “I saw your computer screen earlier.”

Jack paused, letting the water run in the sink. “Just… found an interestin’ article,” he tried to say nonchalantly.

Crutchie snorted. “Since when do you read the _Sun_? Ya said it was 'too pretent'ous'. An’ I thought we were boycottin’ ‘em for turnin’ ya down.”

“It’s not all bad,” Jack defended, scrubbing the already-clean plate and avoiding Crutchie’s eye. 

Squinting his eyes at him, Crutchie leaned back in his chair, the dishtowel hanging loosely in his hand, and stared at him a long moment. Finally he asked, “Is she pretty?”

“Who?”

“The reporter you’re clearly stalkin’.”

“What?! Stalkin’—why would ya—whaddaya—what’s that matter?” Jack sputtered. Before he could stop him, Crutchie had stood up, slipping his arms through the cuffs of his crutches and crossing the kitchen quickly to where Jack had left his laptop.

“Hey!” Jack scrambled after him, dropping a plate in the sink, thinking _Damn, that kid’s fast._

Using one of his crutches to stop Jack, Crutchie opened the laptop, where Katherine’s last article was up, her thumbnail picture next to the headline. Looking up at him in disbelief, Crutchie said, “Aw, c’mon Jack. Does this poor girl even know ya?”

Swatting at the crutch, Jack sat across from him, pulling the laptop towards him. “If ya gotta know, I met her today.”

“An’ you’re _already_ stalkin’ her?”

“I am _not_ stalkin’ her!” Jack said indignantly. “She mentioned she was a reporter and I was curious.”

“Curious about what? How fast ya can get a restrainin’ order?”

Jack closed his eyes a moment. He was so not ready to be havin’ this conversation. “Look, Crutchie… I don’t know. I just—I bumped into her, and she fell. She went all pale, an' she was shakin’, so I walked her back to work, made sure she was okay. That’s all.”

Crutchie raised an eyebrow at him. “That don’t sound like it’s all.”

“I don’t know Crutchie. She… I don’t know. It was almost like I’d seen her somewhere. Like we knew each other. But... we don’t.”

“What’cha gonna do, then?”

Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair. “There’s nothin’ _to_ do. It was a coincidence. I’ll prob'ly never see her again.”

Crutchie gave him a long look. “Ya sound disappointed.”

“I’m not.” His voice left no room for argument.

“If ya say so,” Crutchie shrugged and stood from the table. “I have some work ta finish up. An’ since ya went MIA today, you get ta finish the dishes. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

Nodding, Jack clicked off the _Sun’s_ website and opened his latest comic to work on later. “‘Night, Crutch.”

"'Night, Jackie." Crutchie started down the hallway to his room.

Jack leaned back in his chair and called to him. “Hey, kid.”

Crutchie stopped, turned to him, rocking back on his crutches a bit. “I’m sorry. For scarin’ ya today.”

“It’s nothin’.”

“It is somethin’,” Jack insisted. “And I wouldn’t. I won’t leave without tellin’ ya.” He needed Crutchie to understand that. He wasn’t running again.

Crutchie’s smile told him he understood. “I know, Jack.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

_He’s falling down the ravine, but he feels no pain. His love never gave up on him. His teeth rattle in his head, but he manages to open his mouth enough to say, “As… you… wish…”_

_He rolls to a stop, and hears her say something in response. He looks up to see her throw herself down the hill after him. Scrambling to his hands and knees, he crawls over to her. “Can you move?” he asks._

_She rolls onto her back, looking up at him with the smile he dreamt about for the last five years. “Move? You’re alive. If you want, I could fly.”_

_The scene shifts, and he’s still outside, but they’re both standing, and she’s dressed in torn rags and holding a baby, looking angry with him._

_“If this is how you behave as a prince, what kind of king will you be?”_

_His voice is stony, but he speaks the truth. “I was raised to be charming, not sincere.” He turns to leave, and stops, looks back at her. Speaks the truth again. “I will always love the maiden who ran away.”_

_Her smile is sad. “And I the faraway prince.”_

_He blinks, and suddenly they’re sitting in a balcony at the theater. She still looks angry with him, or at least annoyed, but she’s wearing different clothes again. “This is a private box,” she says sternly._

_“If ya want, I could lock tha door,” he offers, acting more confident than he really feels._

Jack sat up abruptly. He never, _ever_ , dreamt that vividly, and it didn’t feel at all like a dream, more like memories. But he hadn’t met Katherine before today, there was no possible way he could have _any_ memories with her, let alone ones he couldn’t even remember.

Throwing back the blanket, he stood and shoved open the window, suddenly feeling too warm in the stuffy room. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, and Jack rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He’d never felt so rattled by a girl before—or a dream, for that matter. Not since… He blinked in surprise. Had it really been fourteen years since Snyder? That was the last time he remembered having such vivid nightmares.

Drawing them out then had help then, maybe it would now. Jack sat down at the shabby little desk shoved in the corner of his room, flipping on the lamp and pulling his sketchbook towards him.

Flipping open to the first blank page, however, he realized he didn’t have any memory of the dream he’d had. He couldn’t remember where they’d been, what she wore, nothing she said to him.

All he could see was her face.

He idly sketched a few lines before dropping his pencil. _What are ya doin’, Jack?_

Jack scrubbed his hands down his face, sketchbook forgotten in front of him. “Ya way in over ya head, Jackie. She’s just ‘nother pretty face, you’ll prob’ly never see her again.”

As he crawled back into bed, Jack couldn’t help but hope he was wrong.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

By the time Saturday came, Jack had mostly forgotten about Katherine. He and Crutchie made their way to Medda’s theater after breakfast, where some of the boys were helping Jack finish building the set for Medda’s latest show.

He worked for Medda most days, designing and building sets, painting backdrops for her shows, and acting as stage manager. Running around the theater as a kid apparently had given him a unique advantage as a stage manager—at least that’s what Medda said.

When he wasn’t working for his godmother, Jack worked on a web comic he’d created back in college. It had a decent following—made up mostly of his friends, he was sure—but he wasn’t getting rich off of it anytime soon, even with the fair amount of commissions he did.

He was just unlocking the door to the theater when Davey and Les rounded the corner to join he and Crutchie.

“Hey, kid,” Jack said, hooking an arm around Les’ neck, bringing him down to tousle his hair. “How’ve ya been? How’s your first semester?”

“Ja _-ack_ ,” Les whined, twisting out of Jack’s grip and smoothing down his hair. “I’m good. School’s good—college is actually kinda fun.”

“Oh no, Davey, he’s turned inta you.” Jack shook his head mournfully. “I’ve failed in my quest to corrupt ya, kid.”

“Who else is comin’?” Dave asked, ignoring Jack. “Race, I know. Aren’t Albert and Elmer supposed to be here too?”

“Have you ever seen those two show up on time for anythin’?” Crutchie asked with a laugh, and Davey nodded, making a noise of agreement.

A cheery bell dinged off to the side, and they moved aside to let Race skid to a stop in front of them on his messenger bike. “Hiya,” he said, with a wide grin, swinging a leg over the seat in a dismount.

“Racer, when are ya gonna paint that thing?” Jack asked, grimacing.

Unbuckling his helmet, Race shook out his hair before looping the helmet over the handlebars and readjusting his messenger bag. “Whatsa matter? Don’t like yellow?”

“Yellow’s fine. _That_ is an eyesore.” It was hazmat yellow, bright and glaring. Race insisted in made him stand out among other bike messengers. Jack said it cut out competition by causing the other messengers to go blind.

“Spot likes it.”

“Spot likes _you_ ,” Crutchie reminded him. “He puts up with your ugly bike.”

Race rolled his eyes as he unhooked his bike lock from around his waist to chain the bike to the rack outside the theater. He and Spot had just moved in together a couple months back, becoming the first of their group to take that step in a relationship.

“So what all are we doin’ today, Jack?” Race deflected, following them in to the theater.

“Mostly paintin’,” Jack said, flipping on the house lights as they moved down the aisle towards the stage. “Most of the set’s finished; there’s just a couple’a things I still gotta put together.”

The five of them climbed onstage and began dragging out the sets that still needed to be painted. Crutchie and Les spread out drop cloths, while Jack pulled out the paint and brushes he’d stashed backstage.

“I appreciate ya guys comin’ out ta help. Even tha bums who show up late,” he raised his voice pointedly as Albert and Elmer came barreling through the doors.

“Sorry, Jackie,” Albert said, skidding to a stop in front of the stage. “A pregnant cat wandered in through our window this mornin’.”

Elmer pulled himself on stage, nodding. “Yeah, an’ she started givin’ birth, so we hadta figure out how ta deliver kittens in the kitchen.”

The other five boys stopped, turning to stare at Albert and Elmer.

“What?” Elmer said defensively. “It’s true!”

Jack shook his head. “Just say ya slept in. That one was worse than your parade story.”

“Which was _also_ true!” Albert insisted, climbing onstage as well.

“Al, it was literally the scene from _Ferris Bueller_.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

By mid-afternoon, they were jokin' 'round, had music playing, the rest of set pieces built and at least one coat of paint on everything, includin' themselves.

Jack missed this. He saw Crutchie, Davey, and Les all time, but only saw Race semi-regularly, and Albert, Elmer, and the rest of the guys even less than that.

They used to hang out in college, staying up all night watching scary movies (all night because none of them would admit they were too afraid to go to sleep), taking up too many tables in the library, and getting thrown out of Denny’s at two in the morning.

But after college, they started drifting as they spread out, pursuing different paths, and now, nearly five years after college, most of the guys were spread out across New York and beyond.

So call it sappy, or whatever, but Jack missed them, and he was glad when more than five of them could be in the same room.

Turning down the music a bit, Jack called to Crutchie. “Hey, Crutch. How we doin’ on paint?”

Nudging the paint can with one of his crutches, he replied, “Lookin’ pretty low, Jack. Not ‘nuff ta finish the sets.”

“Alright. Albert, Elmer,” Jack reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “There’s a hardware store, couple’a blocks down. Go get more paint.”

“Why us?” Albert whined, wiping his hands on a rag.

Jack rolled his eyes, sticking the credit card Medda gave him for supplies in Elmer’s front shirt pocket. “‘Cause you were the ones who were late because of your so-called cat. Now go get the paint, an’ try not ta get stuck in another parade, alright?”

“Just for that, you don’t get one of our kittens.” Elmer said, sticking out his tongue as they left.

As the door shut behind the two of them, Race jumped from the set piece he was standing on. “While they’re gone, how ‘bout a game’a poker?” he asked, pulling a deck of cards from his back pocket.

“Racer, they’re not gonna be gone long enough to play a hand,” Jack said, lining up the brushes he’d just washed.

“Aw, just _one_ hand? There’s a pet store on the way to the hardware store, they’ll prob'ly get distracted by the fish in the window anyways.”

 _Damn_ , Jack thought. He’d forgotten about that. Sighing, he relented. “Alright, one hand.”

Forty-five minutes later, Albert and Elmer still hadn’t come back, and Race was dealing out the cards for the fourth hand.

“Alright, ante up. Five-card stud, jacks are wild. Openin' bid, two dollars.”

“Davey, you sure you don’t wanna get in on this? Racetrack’s already won three hands, he’s bound to lose sometime,” Crutchie asked Dave, who sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the stage, grading a stack of papers.

Shaking his head, Dave flipped a page, tapping his pen against his thigh. “It’s bad enough he taught my kid brother how to play, but now they both beat me at poker.”

“Aw, don’t be like that Davey,” Les said, shuffling his cards. “Come on, I’ll let you win this one.”

“The fact that you’re good enough to claim you can  _let_  me win, is terrifying, Les,” Davey said, not looking up from his stack of papers.

“Aw, let ‘im be,” Race said. “Davey’s just jealous that for all his book-smarts, he don’t know anythin’ about poker.”

“Racer, don’t let Medda know I’m lettin’ ya gamble in here.” Jack said, popping his gum. “She’ll kill us both, then use our hide as costumes in her next show.”

“What a way to go,” a voice from the house said. All five heads turned towards it, startled.

And there, coming down the middle aisle was Katherine.

Jack couldn’t help the slow grin when he saw her. “Well, hello, Katherine P-Plumber,” he teased, setting down his cards.

“Hello, Jack,” she smiled back at him.

Dave turned slightly to look back at him. “Jack? Gonna introduce us to your… friend?”

Dropping his gaze, Jack cleared his throat. “Uhm, yeah. Katherine, that's Davey, the little one’s Les—”

“Hey! I’m as tall as you, Jack!” Les protested.

“—This here’s Crutchie, Charlie if you’re feeling formal, and that’s Racetrack—'less his mother’s askin’. Then it’s Anthony. Boys, this is Katherine”

“That was  _once_ , Kelly,” Race defended. “Ma didn’t know about me bettin’ on the ponies. Had to keep my cover.”

“Yeah, alright,  _Anthony_.”

“At least my middle name ain’t somethin’ dumb like  _Francis_.”

“Can we help you, Miss Plumber?” Crutchie asked, interrupting their old, played-out argument.

“Katherine, please,” she fidgeted with the strap of her purse. “I just had some questions for Miss Larkin.”

“I thought you were a reporter.” The boys were watching with rapt attention, Dave even setting aside his stack of essays to turn to them.

“I—I am.” Katherine looked confused.

“That’s where I know ya!” Racer said, pointing at Katherine. “Ya work at the _Sun_ right? I delivered somethin’ ta ya Monday.”

“That's right” she said, nodding, recognition flashing across her face. “You had the yellow bike, didn’t you?”

Race turned to Jack triumphantly. “See Jackie! It’s not just Spotty who likes my bike!”

Ignoring Race, Jack turned back to Katherine. “Then whatcha doin’, askin’ for Medda? You don’t work entertainment.” His eyes widened in embarrassment, and he coughed to try and cover it up as Crutchie laughed behind him. “I mean, you don’t, do you?”

“No, I’m an investigative reporter,” she said slowly. Shaking her head slightly, Katherine lifted her chin a bit and said, “I just—I received a tip, I’m following it. As a reporter does.”

Jack nodded slowly, waving a hand to the back of the theater where Medda’s office was. “Well, Medda prob’ly won’t be back ‘til later, but I… maybe—”

“Could I ask you some questions?” The words came out in a rush and her eyes went wide, like she was surprised at herself.

He fumbled a moment for words, then waved a hand at the stage, said, “Well, I—gotta, we have ta finish up here, an' clean up the stage, could take—”

Crutchie interrupted then. “Jackie, why don’t you help Miss—Katherine,” he corrected at her look. “We can finish up here.”

“Ya sure?” Jack tried to sound more reluctant to leave, but they all saw through it.

Dave scooped up his folder, sliding his papers in it. “Yeah, go on, Jack. Albert and Elmer’ll be back soon. And the sets are pretty much done. We can handle it.”

“Well—”

“Just  _go_!” All four boys yelled at him.

“Alright, alright, I’m goin’,” Jack muttered, hopping down from the stage. Gesturing to the back of the theater again, he grinned at her. “Shall we?”

_Then I see you again / And I know_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about this chapter: when this was a much, _much_ , shorter oneshot, it was all from Katherine's point of view. So I had basically from "Davey, you sure you don’t wanna get in on this?" to the end all in Kath's POV. And then when I added Jack's POV, that whole exchange had to be rewritten, and the rest of the chapter had to be written.
> 
> (adding Jack's POV is why this took so much longer to finish, but I think it was worth it...)
> 
> Also, "I was raised to be charming, not sincere" from _Into the Woods_ is SUCH a line, omg. I adore it.
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!
> 
> ***
> 
> Inspirations for past lives:
> 
> Westley/Buttercup—The Princess Bride  
> Cinderella/Her Prince—Into the Woods  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Kath become friends, there's a celebratory dinner, and Darcy and David bond over being Mom Friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my second least-favorite chapter
> 
> NOTE: this is the beginning of the time-jumps. The whole fic takes place over about a year. The action of this chapter takes place about 5 months after Jack and Kath meet (I’m like 87% sure I mention that, but just in case...)

_Filled with light, filled with you / And the crazy belief that tomorrow_

It was almost overwhelming, how quickly they became friends. She and Jack had clicked almost immediately. After an initial awkwardness that reminded Katherine somewhat of a first date, they fell into an easy, familiar rhythm. The… “interview” had led to coffee, which led to talking long after the coffee had grown cold, which led to exchanging numbers—just in case she had more questions, of course.

Katherine felt a little bad, using her newspaper contacts to find Jack. Liana was a nice girl, starting out in entertainment, like she'd been, and Katherine hadn't been entirely forthright with her.

_“Jack Kelly is the stage manager, as well as her main set designer,” Liana had explained, pulling up her notes from the article. “Nice guy, friendly enough. What’s at Medda’s theatre that’s interesting to you? You haven’t been in entertainment for years.”_

_Katherine had shrugged. “Not entirely sure, honestly. It’s just a hunch, really. I’m just going to swing by and see if it’s worth… pursuing.”_

Not... lying, per se. She just hadn't told Liana the hunch was Jack. 

She’d considered their past lives. Before she’d seen him again, she had written out every life she could think of, stretching back and back and back, where they’d been and what their relationship was. It hadn’t been until she remembered him that she realized how much she missed him. 

Most of the time, they found each other, fell in love. Sometimes they found each other but it didn’t work out, they fell out of love, had already found someone else, remained just friends.

And a handful of times, the times she didn’t dwell on too much, they never found each other.

She didn’t know what this life held for them. Already, they were a step ahead, finding each other. Though the universe was certainly trying its hardest, Katherine thought whenever she remembered how he’d applied for the _Sun_ a year— _a year!_ —ago.

She was truly happy just to be in his life and him in hers. She didn’t need a romantic relationship with Jack. And she certainly didn’t want to force one, just because they had in the past.

They were different, each time. Sure, Jack Kelly, Katherine Plumber, same names, all outward appearances seemed to be the same. But it wasn’t the same, each life they were reincarnated to.

They always met at different points in their lives, an infinite number of events shaping them into different people each time.

He didn’t remember her this time, not like Katherine remembered him, and she hadn’t known him long enough in this life, as this Katherine Plumber, or him as this Jack Kelly, to know if they could even be friends, let alone _romantically involved_.

But if that afternoon had been anything to go by, she thought, well.

Maybe it was worth figuring out.

And the boys…

The boys had quickly accepted Katherine, a fact that shocked and flattered her. Charlie—Katherine just couldn’t bring herself to call him Crutchie, not matter how much he said it was okay—and David always greeted her warmly; Race, Elmer, and Albert joked and teased with her, and she’d even managed to break down the stoic barrier Spot had—enough that she’d even learned his real name was Sean

She’d forgotten how, with Jack, she got the boys, with their rowdiness and strange nicknames.

She was a little surprised to realize she’d missed them as much as she had Jack.

Before Katherine knew it, it was five months later and she and Jack were practically attached at the hip. 

Katherine started spending her lunch break at the theater, joining him on stage or in the box office, wherever he was working. She met Medda about a month after she met Jack, who greeted her with a warm hug every time she stopped by.

Jack came by the office so often that Aisha stopped calling Katherine to say she had a guest. He came right on in to talk with her or bother Darcy. Most nights, he met her after work, walked her home.

He was the first person she spoke to in the morning, the last person at night, and quickly became her most trusted confidant and the person she told everything to, good or bad.

Thankfully, it was mostly good.

Katherine burst through the doors of the theater, startling the actors on stage and Medda, who all turned to her.

“I’m sorry, Miss Medda,” she said, a little self-conscious of her abrupt entrance, but unable to keep the smile off her face. “I’m looking for Jack.”

“He’s back in the green room, honey,” Medda said with a knowing smile.

“Thanks,” Katherine gave the actors on stage an awkward thumbs up. “Doing great, everyone,” she muttered, making her exit quickly.

The short walk down the hallway seemed to take forever, but finally she was opening the green room door, revealing Jack sitting on one of the couches, sketching

“Jack!” she said excitedly, shutting the door behind her, bouncing on her toes. “You’ll never guess!”

“What’s up?” he laughed, casting his sketchbook aside to stand and face her. “You’re practic’lly vibrating.”

“I—Denton just told me—my article— _Wow,_ I’m talking really fast,” Katherine stammered out. She _was_ shaking—she was so excited.

Jack set his hands on her shoulders, still laughing. “Okay, breathe, Ace. ‘Member how ta do that?”

Nodding, Katherine reached up to grab his hands, pulling them off her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she finally managed to get out, “Denton told me today that my last article is up for an IRE!”

His eyes widened a bit in confusion, but the smile didn’t waver. “Don’t know exactly what that means, but you’re excited, so I’m excited.”

She squeezed his hands, still bouncing. “It’s an investigative reporting award—not as prestigious, as a Pulitzer, maybe, but still pretty great, yeah?”

“Yeah, for sure!” Jack tugged her by their joined hands into a hug, one arm wrapping securely around her waist, the other around her shoulders. Closing her eyes, Katherine locked her arms around his waist, setting her head on his shoulder.

She wasn’t shaking so much anymore, but her heart was still pounding. Part of her wondered if Jack could hear it.

Tugging her back, Jack said, “Hey! We gotta celebrate!”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine tired to protest the dinner, said nothing was certain, she was only nominated, but Jack had insisted.

She managed to talk him down from anywhere fancy, however, demanded nothing more than the deli Jack had introduced her to since they’d met, Jacobi’s.

“Okay, Ace,” he’d said. “But after you win, you’re not talking me outta anythin’.”

Rolling her eyes half-heartedly, she’d agreed.

So that was how she wound up at Jacobi’s, with Jack, Darcy, Liana, and the boys who were slowly becoming her close friends, too.

They pushed a couple of tables together, and settled in, introducing Darcy and Liana to the boys. Albert and Elmer showed up just after their drink orders arrived, which Jack assured her was normal for them.

Dinner was anything but boring, the boys teasing each other loudly, stealing food of each other’s plates. Darcy and David, having bonded over being the perpetual Mom Friends, rolled their eyes and apologized for the antics of the others.

In an apparently shocking twist, Albert and Elmer passed around their phones with pictures of cats that had been living in their apartment for the last five months.

“Yeah, but our landlord says we can’t have six cats in the apartment, so we gotta get rid of ‘em,” Elmer explained. “Any takers?”

“Spotty, lookit that one. Ya make the same face when ya wake up,” Race laughed, pointing to one of the cats.

“Race, we’re not gettin’ a cat.”

“But Seeaaaan, _look_ …”

“If ya take one’a our cats, ya gotta name it after me,” Albert insisted.

Spot tossed a fry at him. “That settles it. We’re not gettin’ one.”

Albert pouted at Race, who said, “I’ll work on it.”

“Jack…” Charlie said, thoughtfully.

“Yeah, kid. I’ll even let’cha pick it,” Jack said, laughing. “I still can’t believe the cat story is true.”

“Makes ya wonder, don’t it?” Elmer winked. “Our stories are true. Even the parade one.”

“What parade story?” Katherine asked, eliciting groans from the table. She’d heard a number of tall tales from Albert and Elmer, but never one about a parade

“Kath, no,” Jack moaned, as Albert and Elmer sat up in their chairs, eager to tell their tale.

By the time they’d finished their story—which _was_ outlandish and sounded suspiciously like  _Ferris Bueller_ —they had finished their food.

Excusing herself, Katherine went to the restroom, shaking her head. The boys certainly never changed. They were just as loud and rowdy in this life as any other life.

Coming out of the bathroom, she almost ran into Darcy, who was standing outside, clearly waiting for her.

“Darcy!” Katherine stopped with a hand to her chest. “Why are you standing outside the women’s restroom?”

“What’s going on with you and that Jack guy?” he asked instead.

Shaking her head, Katherine tried to push past him. “Nothing. We’re just friends.”

Darcy gave her a disbelieving look. “Kath, you and I are ‘just friends’. Clearly there’s something more than ‘just friends’.”

Ducking her head, she tried to cover her blush. She thought she’d been doing a better job at hiding it. Choosing not to say anything, and further convict herself, she brushed past him.

He stopped her with an arm around her shoulders. “I’m just saying, I haven’t seen you like this over a guy since Dan in college.” Squeezing her once before letting go Darcy mused, “And I like Jack better. Still not good enough, of course.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Darce, you don’t think any guy’s good enough for me.”

“And I have always been right.”

She checked him with her hip as they approached the table, where the rest of their party was standing, shrugging into jackets, and calling out thank yous to Mr. Jacobi.

“Hey, ya ready?” Jack asked, holding out her cardigan for her. Nodding, Katherine accepted it with a smile.

They spilled out onto the sidewalk, afterwards, turning heads with their loud laughter. Spot and Race split off first, the latter wrapping an arm around his boyfriend.

Albert and Elmer left next, claiming their kittens needed them and reminding Jack that he’d promised to take one, to which Jack rolled his eyes and waved them off.

Katherine hugged Darcy and Liana, thanking them for coming, as Davey asked Jack if he and Crutchie needed a ride.

Jack shook his head. “Crutchie, you go on ahead. ‘M gonna walk with Katherine.”

Her stomach flipped a bit, and she hugged Crutchie and David, as well, before turning to Jack.

Now alone, something in his smile softened, but before Katherine could think too hard about it, he’d turned profile, proffering his arm to her.

She laughed softly, slipping her arm through his, and they started off towards her apartment, walking in comfortable silence.

“How long have you all known each other?” Katherine felt him tense slightly, and she started to move away, take her arm back, but he stopped her with a gentle hand over hers.

“Mm, I’ve known Charlie and Tony the longest,” Jack said, dropping his hand awkwardly. “Same group home for a few years. Then Crutchie and I went to live with the Jacobs—Davey and Les, their parents, and sister, Sarah.”

Katherine looked up, startled. She could tell the boys were close, even from her first introduction, but she didn’t know the circumstances surrounding their meeting.

“Race went ta Brooklyn. S’where he met Spot, an’ we met Albert and Elmer in college. Bunch’a other guys, too, but they don’t live ‘round here anymore.” Sad wasn’t the right word to describe Jack’s expression, but there was a melancholy air over them now, and she desperately wanted to fix it.

The reporter in her wanted to ask about the group home, but knowing _him_ , she knew that it was something he needed to tell her himself.

“So, are you and Charlie really going to take a kitten from Albert and Elmer?”

Jack laughed a bit, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, guess we are. Won’t be the worst thing ever, havin’ a cat. The Jacobs had one for a while, Crutchie always liked ‘im.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, somethin’ ‘bout the weight of it on his lap when his foot’s hurtin’ that distracts ‘im. An’ with him workin’ a regular nine-to-five job, an’ me not, it’ll be good ta have ‘nother livin’ bein’ in the apartment.”

“When are you going to go pick your cat?”

“Prob’ly tomorrow, day after, ‘fore those idiots manage to get into more trouble wit’ their landlord,” Jack answered, rolling his eyes, but smiling fondly.

They went back and forth on cat names for a while before walking in silence again. Katherine tucked the hand that wasn’t holding Jack’s arm in her pocket, content to just walk with him.

But apparently Jack had questions of his own.

“So tell me about your Jack—well, your _Other_ Jack. What was he like?”

There was a brief moment of panic while Katherine tried to remember who this “Other Jack” was supposed to be. “Oh, he’s someone I’ve known…forever, it feels like. We were close.”

“Close?” he asked. “Where ya two together?”

“For a while. But I haven’t seen him in years.” _Twenty-seven, to be exact,_ she thought. She needed to change the subject before she gave something away. There was no explanation as to why, but Katherine was hoping he’d remember her on his own time.

Plus, she knew what it sounded like, the reincarnation story. She didn’t want whatever _this_ was to crumble just because she had to open her mouth. Shaking her head, Katherine said, “I don’t really like talking about him.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed easily, looking at her with only slight concern. “What about Darcy? Are you two…?” he shrugged. “Ya know.”

“Dating?” Katherine laughed. “No, definitely not. Our dads are close, so we pretty much grew up together. He’s as much my brother as my two real brothers.”

“Two brothers?”

She nodded. “Ralph and Joey. And… I had a sister, too. She died a few years back. What about you?” she asked quickly, not wanting to dwell on Lucy. “Any siblings?”

“Blood? Nah. Only brothers I got are Les, Davey, Crutchie, and Race.”

“Not Albert and Elmer?” she teased.

Smirking, Jack shook his head. “Nah, they’re the cousins we sometimes pretend aren’t really related to us.”

Katherine laughed, and he looked pleased with himself. She started to say something, but looked up to see they had arrived outside her apartment building.

With a slight pang of disappointment, she said, “This is me.”

Jack looked as disappointed as she felt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you for tonight,” she said, pulling her arm back, but maintaining their proximity. “It was fun.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“We should do it again sometime.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “But… with less of a crowd.”

Katherine felt her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. Was he asking her out? Did she want him to be asking her out?

Darcy’s words were playing in the back of her head. It was true. She hadn’t felt like this with a guy since college.

And it had nothing to do with their past lives. She had feelings for him now, in _this_ life.

“Yeah,” Katherine had to bite her lip from smiling too big. “That sounds like a good idea.”

His eyes widened, like he wasn’t expecting her to say that. “Yeah? Yeah! Yeah, how about, uhm… Monday? I don’t work Mondays, but if that doesn’t work—”

“No, Monday’s good. It’s a date.”

_Is something worth winning / Keeping faith with a new beginning_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a daaaaatttttttee....... :D
> 
> (or is it???)
> 
> The IRE is a real investigative journalist award. Other than it's real and that it goes to to investigative reporters, I don't know much about it. 
> 
> YES, the cats are real! As for the rest of Al and Elmer's stories, I'll let you decide for yourselves...
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the definition of "date" is discussed, jokes about Spot's height are made, and Jack and Kath kiss in the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like 11 on Wednesday night, so that's close enough to Thursday for me...
> 
> Note: this is only two, three days after the last chapter.
> 
> Note note: I've been frantically rewriting this chapter since Monday, so I apologize for any inconsistencies.

_Seems unreal, you don’t know / Seeing me in your eyes is a prize I ain’t never expected_

“Jaaack,” Crutchie whined pitifully, propping his foot up in Jack’s lap. “Tie my shoe.”

Jack gave him a dry look. “Charlie, you are twenty-six years old. Surely ya can tie your own shoe.”

Twisting his leg so that his foot wiggled, Crutchie pouted. “But I don’t wanna bend over. You do it.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but took the laces in his hands, tying them. “Whaddaya doin’ tonight, kid?”

“Havin’ dinner with Rosie,” he said, pulling his other leg up so Jack could tie the other shoe.  “So how are  _you_  feelin’ ‘bout tonight, Jack?” 

Groaning, Jack dropped his head against the back of the couch. The kid had been a little _too_ excited when Jack had told him he was going out with Kath that night. “She called it a _date_ , Crutchie. Whaddaya think that means?”

“Dunno, Jackie,” Crutchie said drily. “Probably that it’s a date.”

Jack twisted one of the pillows in his hands. “Yeah, but like a date-date, or, like, just somethin’ people say? ‘Yeah, sure, it’s a date’, but it’s not a _date_ …” Tilting his head and frowning a bit, Jack asked, “Did any’a that make sense?”

Crutchie shook his head, sitting back against the arm of the chair. “Nah, but I stopped listenin’, so…”

Swatting at Crutchie's shoes, Jack shook his head. He  _wanted_ it to be a date. As much as he loved just having Kath in his life, Jack couldn't help but feel like they were being pulled in the direction of  _something more._

Speaking of...

"Crutchie. D’ya think dreams mean somethin’?”

Crutchie tilted his head, pushing out his lower lip as he thought. “How d’ya figure?”

Jack shook his head. “I dunno. Had a dream last night where me an' Kath was...” He almost didn't want to finish the sentence. It sounded stupid. "Singin'? Karaoke?"

Pointing his toes to stretch his legs, which were still over Jack's lap, Crutchie shook his head. "Nothin' too weird about that—get'cha two drunk enough, an' that's a regular Friday night."

"That was  _once_ , Crutchie," Jack definitely did  _not_ whine. Two months back, they'd gone out to celebrate Al's birthday at some bar, and after one too many shots, the boys had gotten him and Katherine to get up behind the karaoke machine. "An' it wasn't like that. It was... diff'rent."

"Diff'rent how?"

Jack scrunched his nose. He didn't know how to explain his dreams with Kath, the ones he'd had since he met her. They'd felt way too real to be dreams, but too out-there to be memories, like the quiet voice in the back of his head kept telling him they were.

And then there were times he caught her looking at him, like she was waitin' for something, or like she knew more about him than she let on; looks he couldn't quite describe, but made him want to search for answers to questions he didn't know he had. 

He shook his head, trying to shake those thoughts as well. "Dunno. Just... diff'rent."

“Well,” Crutchie shrugged. “It’s just a dream, right?”

Pursing his lips, still not totally convinced, Jack said, "Yeah. I guess."

"Dream anythin' other'n you an' Kath singin' karaoke?" Crutchie asked, pulling his legs off Jack's lap and reaching for his bag and crutches.

He didn't want to tell Crutchie the rest of the dream. The second half of his dream had left an ache in his chest, as he'd watched Katherine in a soft pink dress walk away from him, out of the ballroom, to Darcy. She'd chosen him over Jack. 

Jack shook his head. _Just a dream, Jackie. She toldja herself_  — _they're just friends. You're just nervous._  

He pushed down the feeling that kept nagging him that it wasn't just a dream and turned to Crutchie. “Nah, that was it. Ya need me ta drive ya in, kid?”

Standing, Crutchie shook his head. “Nah, Davey’s waitin’ for me downstairs.” Crutchie did the books for a place down the street from the university; sometimes Dave would pick him up and take him to work when Jack couldn’t. “An’ Rosie’s pickin’ me up tonight, so’s I don’t interrupt your _date_ ,” he added with a cackle as he made his way to the door.

“Get outta here,” Jack said, tossing a pillow at the wall next to Crutchie. “Go earn your keep. An’ lemme know if ya can get away at lunch, we’ll go by Albert an’ Elmer’s, get the cat.”

“Yeah, alright, Jackie.” 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The music was loud, pulsing beneath their feet as Jack and Katherine made their way through the street fair crowd, side-by-side.

It was so loud, their conversation was limited, snippets caught between songs.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, smiling at Katherine as she swayed with the music. It wasn’t… awkward, really, but there was a tension that kept reminding him that this was a _date_ , and it was a date he wanted to go well.

But it was hard to judge how a date was going if you couldn’t talk to the person you were on the date with.

The music wound down a bit, and he leaned closer to her. “Ya wanna get a drink?”

She looked up at his voice, a slight furrow in her brow, before nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, great!”

Nodding, he started to push his way through the gathering by the band. Just as he broke free, he turned to ask Katherine, “So whaddaya feel like—?”

But Katherine was nowhere to be seen. Spinning around, he couldn’t see her in any direction.

Groaning, Jack looked around, searching through the crowd of people for the familiar red head. The street fair in Brooklyn had seemed like a good idea, but there were so many people, they kept getting pushed apart.

Turning as much as he could despite the crowd, he came face to face with none other than Racetrack Higgins.

“Race! Whaddaya doin’ here?”

His friend shrugged. “Spotty was workin’ late last Thursday, so we decided ta come out ta the street fair tonight. What ‘bout you? Ya here with Crutchie? Davey?” Race craned his neck, looking around.

“Ah, no… not Davey or Crutchie,” Jack said, a little uncomfortably.

“Ya get Albert an’ Elmer ta come? Or ya here alone?”

“Not… not alone. An’ not Al or Elmer, neither.”

Race blinked at him, cocking his head. “I just went through all ya friends, Jackie, who’re ya here with?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jack said, “Uhm, I’m here wit’ Kath.”

Leaning towards him, Racer gestured to his ear, indicating he hadn’t heard. “What Jack? Couldn’t hear ya over the music.”

Raising his voice, Jack said, “I’m wit’ Kath—Katherine. Plumber. Katherine Plumber.”

He could see the precise moment Race had processed what he’d said, his face lighting up in a wicked grin. “Are ya on a _date_ with Kath?” Race cackled.

Jack kicked at the ground a bit. “Maybe?”

“You are! You’re one a date wit’ Katherine Plumber!” Race grasped Jack’s shoulders, shaking him. “Didja ask her out, or did Kath ask you?”

Furrowing his brow, Jack tried to shrug out of Race’s grasp. “Why is that important?”

Race stopped shaking him, looking at him seriously. “It just is, Jackie. Answer the question.”

Jack shook his head. “I guess I asked her.”

“Ha!” Race crowed. “Spotty owes me twenty bucks. He didn’t think you would.”

“You guys are bettin’ on my love life?” Jack demanded, finally shaking Race off. He couldn’t say he was truly surprised, but _really_.

“‘M not allowed at the tracks anymore, Jack. Lemme have this one. Wait,” Race said gleefully. “Didja just say your _love_ life?”

“Bye, Tony,” Jack said, turning to look for Katherine again and lose his idiot friend.

“You loooovvvve her!” Race sang out, hooking an arm around Jack’s neck.

Locking his own arm around Race’s neck, Jack pulled him down, keeping him down as he continued to search for Katherine.

“Kelly, what the hell are ya doin’ ta my boyfriend?”

He looked over his shoulder to see Katherine and Spot approaching them, Katherine leading him with a hand on his wrist. Letting go of Race, who straightened with an indignant squeak, Jack said, “What’re _you_ doin’ wit’ _my_ date, Conlon?”

“We bumped into each other by the band,” Katherine explained, dropping Spot’s hand to step towards Jack. “I stuck with him because I didn’t want anyone stepping on him,” she added, smirking a bit.

A surprised laugh slipped past Jack's lips. Kath was still pretty new to the group, had no trouble jokin' with Race or Al, but most people couldn't get comfortable enough around Spot to joke with him.  _Especially_ about his height.

Katherine Plumber sure was somethin' else.

Spot’s eyes widened in offense as he sputtered out, “Whaddaya—didja just—‘m _not_ short, Kathy, low blow,” he finally muttered. Then, looking up at Race sharply, he said, “Wait, didja say _date_? D’ya know—?”

“He asked her. I win, Spotty,” Race said triumphantly.

Katherine looked confused. “I’m sorry, what—?”

“Ignore ‘em, Kath, that’s what I do,” Jack said, scrubbing a hand down his face, feeling his cheeks heat up, any amusement at Kath's joke vanishing.

“Aww, we’re _embarrassin’_ him, Sean,” Race teased. “We should go, let the two young’ins continue their date.” Tugging on Spot’s hand, he called out, “Don’t do anythin’ we wouldn’t do!”

“I don’t wanna do anythin’ ya _would_ do Race!” Jack yelled after them. “An’ ‘m eighteen months older’n ya,” he muttered, kicking the ground again. Looking up at Katherine, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry ‘bout them. They’re idiots.”

“‘I win’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do they make bets on you often?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Race’ll bet on anythin’. An’ ‘parently this one’s been goin’ on for a while. We should prob’ly avoid ‘em. If they catch us separately again—”

“Well,” Katherine said, slipping her hand in his. “Let’s not get separated again.”

After getting their drinks—something frozen and fruity that Jack wasn’t sure he really liked—they wandered, hand-in-hand, further from the band, making it easier for them to hear each other.

He asked her about the story she was working on, if she’d heard anything about the award, and she asked him about the cat he and Crutchie picked up that day.

“The cat’s full name is Charcoal Mittens Sungglebug the Third,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Crutchie said ‘the third’ made it sound official. But I just call it Charcoal.”

“Excellent name for a cat,” Katherine said, seriously, but with a gleam in her eye. “Spot was telling me he let Race name their cat. She’s got the most _ridiculous_ name—Miss Cuddlekinz Alberta Higgins-Conlon.” She laughed. “How are any of you allowed to name anything?”

Jack laughed, tossing his empty cup in a trashcan. “If ya think that’s somethin’, ya should hear the names of the ducks we had in college.”

She looked at him incredulously. “You had _ducks_ in—ooh!”

Jack managed to catch her with an arm around her waist before she toppled backwards.

A young boy took a cautious step back, looking up at them with wide eyes. Behind him, a woman—his babysitter? mother?—scolded gently, “Tommy! You need to watch where you’re going, honey.”

“‘M sorry,” he muttered, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands.

“I’m sorry, I turned my back for one second—Oh, your shirt!” she said apologetically.

Jack looked down to see that the cheap plastic cup Katherine’s drink had been in had broken, spilling the bright red drink down her front, staining her pale yellow top.

“It’s fine,” Katherine said, plucking at the shirt and giving her a reassuring smile. “Really, it’ll come out in the wash.”

After apologizing profusely, the two moved on, the woman keeping a tight hand in Tommy’s.

“Well, that doesn’t feel… great,” Katherine admitted, grimacing slightly as she tried to pull the shirt from her skin.

Jack winced. He wasn’t an expert on first dates, but this definitely couldn’t be how it was supposed to go, right? Never one to believe in cosmic interference, Jack couldn’t help but wonder if someone was trying to tell him something.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Ace. C’mon, ya prob’ly don’t wanna stay in that shirt. Let’s get’cha—”

Before he could finish the sentence, the sky opened up and rain poured around them.

The shock of cold rain made them both flinch, before Katherine started laughing, practically doubled over with it. After a moment, Jack joined her, the two of them standing in the middle of the street, laughing, tears of mirth mixing with the rain running down their faces.

“Some—some date, huh?” he managed to get out, when he’d caught his breath.

Katherine dropped her broken cup in favor of linking their free hands together, tilting her head back. “I don’t know, I was having a good time, even if we did get separated, and found out our friends have been betting on when we’d start dating.” She looked at him, startled. “What, are you not?”

“No, no!” he shook his head quickly, his stomach flipping at her referring to those two idiots as her friends too. “‘Course I was havin’ a great time. I just—D’ya believe in signs from the universe?”

She looked at him a long moment, and Jack felt it again, that feeling like Katherine knew more about himself than he did. He tried not to fidget under her gaze, suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that he could see himself reflected in her warm brown eyes.

Her face broke into a soft smile. “Not really,” she said, rising slightly on her toes to kiss him.

After a moment of shock, Jack wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, the other hand cupping the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her wet hair.

Images flickered past his eyelids, looking something like his dreams, but Jack couldn’t be bothered to focus on anything but Katherine, her hands carding through his wet hair and her lips tasting like rain and that fruity drink—which didn’t taste so bad on her, he decided, pulling her closer, tugging her lower lip between his.

 _Best_ first date.

_Makes me feel—what’s the word? / Connected_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doesn't matter what life they're in, Crutchie always makes Jack tie his shoes...
> 
> Special shout-out to Grace, who named the cats for me (I can only name ducks, apparently XP).
> 
> I have a little insert for the end of this chapter, with Spot and Race, that will be posted separately when it's finished. And I also want to write drunk Jack and Kath karaoke-ing. .....
> 
> Someone stop me before this monstrosity becomes more of a monstrosity.
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!
> 
> ***
> 
> Inspirations for past lives:
> 
> Troy/Gabriella—High School Musical (because I'm trash)  
> Duckie/Andie—Pretty in Pink (which I have A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT, someone come talk to me)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy Times and a Very Important Talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's quite a bit shorter than the rest, and it's that "implied sexy times" I mentioned. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can skip to the *~*~*~*~* break. It won't hurt my feelings if you do.
> 
> Time jump note: roughly two months since their date

_What if we stay really still / And don’t even look at the ground_

“I have to admit something,” she said, breathlessly, in between hurried kisses.

“Mm?” Jack kissed along her jaw, nosing down her neck as he tugged her closer.

“I— never wanted to interview Medda.”

His laugh was muffled against her shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

He wasn’t entirely sure how they ended up here, if he was honest. They were back at her apartment after Spot and Race’s engagement party, more than a little tipsy, hands and lips wandering over each other before she’d even managed to unlock the front door.

And now they were in the hallway just outside her room, Jack’s shirt rucked up, Katherine missing only one shoe, hands tugging the other closer, impossibly closer.

Jack broke away long enough to tug at the zipper of her dress as she tried to pull his shirt the rest of the way off, which only led to a mess of tangled limbs and Jack’s shirt getting caught on her watch.

“Wait, wait,” Katherine laughed, knocking his hands away so she could detach her watch from his shirt, pulling it off as she did, ruffling his hair so that it stuck up in odd angles.

She stared, unabashedly. In the seven months they’d known each other, she’d seen him without his shirt, but now, in the dim light of the hallway, she looked at him like it was the first time.

Her eyes trailed up his figure, and he felt himself start to fidget at her steady gaze.

“Well,” he said, a little gruffly. “Ya seem a bit overdressed, there, Ace.”

Without breaking eye contact, Katherine twisted her arms behind her to tug the zipper down, allowing the dress to pool around her feet. She kicked it away, along with her other shoe.

Jack’s eyes widened, and it was his turn to take her in. Just a little over a month ago, he’d gone out with the guys and gotten, well, _drunk_ , he’d left her a voicemail at three in the morning, comparing her to an angel.

But now, with her wild curls and her pupils blown as she stared boldly stared at him, he couldn’t help but be thankful she’d shed a little of that angelic purity to join him on Earth.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him, taking his hand and squeezing gently, leading him backwards into her room.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

After, when their hearts had slowed and their skin had cooled, they lay with his chest to her back, Jack’s arm draped loosely over her and Katherine lightly trailing her fingers over his arm.

Katherine buried her head in the pillow, hiding a sleepy grin. _Some things_ never _change, do they?_ she thought, curling her other hand under the pillow.

“I gotta ask…” Jack’s voice sounded hesitant, rough.

Her hand stilled on his arm. “Yeah?”

Jack cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she moved to see him better. “You’re not… You’re not still hung up on your other Jack, are ya?”

She inhaled, a little sharply, suddenly awake. They hadn’t talked about her “other Jack” in months, after the third failed conversation Jack had tried to start about him.

“‘Cause I think we’ve got somethin’ pretty good here, but if I’m just a rebound…” He continued on an exhale, scrubbed a hand down his face roughly. “Honestly? I think I could be in love with someone like you, Katherine. Don’t tell me you’re gonna break my heart.”

She flinched inwardly at his phrasing. Not all of their lives had a happy ending, and the last time he said that…

And when their lives together ended bitterly, it was almost always because one of them didn't remember. There was no reason why one would remember before the other. There was no reason why Jack shouldn't remember her now.

But that was in the past. Katherine couldn’t let herself get hung up on her past lives and forget to live this one. And she found herself not caring if he ever did. Because this was real, whether or not he remembered.

Rolling over to face him, she propped herself up on her elbow, raising herself above him. His eyes never changed, she noticed. Not matter what life they were in, not matter their situations, their relationship. His eyes were always that gray-green, that shone when he was happy, darkened in his anger, and always held a sadness beyond his years.

And right now, they were watching her, pleading with her not to add to that sadness.

Bringing a hand up to his face, she traced her fingers lightly over the soft skin under his eye, over his cheekbone, down his jaw, stopping at his chin. His stubble tickled her fingertips.

“You… remind me of him, in some ways, that’s true. But I’m can’t live in the past. It doesn’t do anyone any good. When I’m with you, I’m here. Not with him. And,” she paused, sliding her hand back up to cup his cheek. “I think I could love someone like you, too.”

_I know I could, I have for thousands of years, just open your eyes, Jack, see…_

Jack kissed her then, hard enough to push her onto her back. He kissed like a drowning man who needed air, and all Katherine could do was wind a hand in his hair, and hold on. 

_Not a soul for miles around / We are at the beginning_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, I don't really write "sexy", so... 
> 
> Posting a day early because this chapter is so short, and the next chapter is so short, so I'm posting them back to back. Happy weekend;)
> 
> Fun fact, one of the first parts I'd had written for the original oneshot was from the *~*~*~*~* break down, their ~~pillow~~ talk ;)
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!
> 
> ***
> 
> Inspiration for past lives:
> 
> Jamie/Cathy—The Last Five Years (“I could love someone like you”)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack meets Kath's family. It may or may not go exactly how you'd imagine.
> 
> (and Crutchie may or may not be a little shit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend! enjoy another chapter!! :D
> 
> Time jump: roughly two months from the last chapter, about nine months since they met.

_But I know when I’m up here / It’s not about losing or winning_

Katherine knocked on the door, pushing it open when she heard Charlie call out, “It’s open!”

“Hiya Kath,” he said from his spot on the floor, where he was curled up with their cat.

“Hey Charlie,” she said, ruffling his hair as she sat on the couch and stretched her arm a bit to scratch behind Charcoal’s ear. “Tell me honestly,” Katherine said, looking up to the hallway where she was waiting for Jack to emerge. “How nervous is he?”

Tilting his head a bit so that it knocked against her knee, Charlie said, “On a scale of one to ten? ‘Bout eleven.”

She winced. “That bad?”

Leaning his head back to give her a dry look, he said, “He’s changed his shirt five times. It’s gettin’ ridic’lous.”

She and Jack had been—dating, she guessed?—for right about four months, now, and tonight they were having dinner with her family. He’d tried to play it off confidently when she asked him, but Katherine had seen something flicker in his eyes.

As if on cue, Jack’s voice floated down the hallway, “Crutchie, ya think I needta wear a tie?”

Charlie groaned, dropping his head on Katherine’s knee. Patting his shoulder, she called back, “Jack, come in here.”

There was a long, quiet moment before she heard his door click shut. He appeared in the living room, looking a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

She took in his outfit, something formal enough it wouldn’t cause her mother’s eyebrows to raise, but not so much that he wouldn’t be uncomfortable, before nodding with approval.

“That looks fine, Jack.” Katherine patted Charlie’s shoulder again so he would lift his head off her knee and she could stand.

“Are ya sure—?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she said, taking his hand. “Now, say ‘goodnight, Charlie’, and we’ll go.”

Muttering as he pulled himself up on the couch by his elbows, Charlie muttered, “Goodnight, Charlie.”

The drive out of the city was uneventful, the two of them talking about their days in between Katherine directing Jack to her parent’s home.

It surprised her, how many of the boys knew how to drive. Before meeting them, Darcy was the only person in the city she knew who drove. But Jack, Davey, Spot, and Race could all drive as well—though, so far, she’d only heard horror stories about how Race drove.

As the pulled into the driveway, Jack let out a low whistle. “Ya weren’t kiddin’ when ya said your house was big, Kath,” he said, looking mildly impressed and more than a little nervous.

Katherine reached across the console to squeeze his hand. “It’ll be fine,” she promised.

He nodded slowly, letting out a long breath. She pulled their joined hands towards her, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before dropping his hand and opening the door, leading him up the walkway. Using her key, she let them in the house, calling out a greeting to her mother.

The front hallway looked the same, walls lined with perfect family portraits her mother had insisted on every year until—well.

Jack stopped in front of one of the pictures, one of her and Lucy, maybe ages six and eight, smirking slightly at her with her two front teeth missing.

“Is that your sister?” he asked, nodding at Lucy. “L—Lucy, right?”

Katherine nodded. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Ya look just like her.”

“That’s what everyone said,” she said, a little sadly.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Joey, who wrapped an arm around her neck, tousling her hair with his other hand.

“Kitty! How _are_ you? You don’t call, you don’t write…” her younger brother teased.

Katherine managed to get an arm loose to smack his side until he let go. Straightening indignantly, she said, “Maybe I don’t because you’re a _pain in the ass,_ Joey.”

“Ooooh,” Ralph said, poking his head around the corner. “Kitty said a bad word. Quarter in the swear jar.” Seeing Jack, who was watching the siblings with barely concealed amusement, he stuck his hand out. “Ralph. You must be Katherine’s…friend.”

“Yeah. Jack Kelly.” The two shook hands firmly, before Joey puffed up his chest to stand in front of Jack.

“So, Jack Kelly, _if_ that’s your real name. What are your intentions with my sister?”

There was a glint in Jack’s eyes, equal parts humor and trepidation. “Well, ah…”

Thankfully, her mother made her entrance then. “There you all are! Come in, dinner’s just being served.” She allowed Ralph and Joey to pass her before stopping Katherine. “Hello, Katherine, dear. How are you?”

“Hi, Mom.” She kissed her mother’s cheek before pulling Jack forward. “Mom, this my—Jack Kelly.”

Jack side-eyed her before sticking his hand out, a little stiffly. “Ma’am.”

Casting Katherine an approving look, Kate shook Jack’s hand. “Lovely to meet you, Jack. Come on in.” Turning, her mother led them to the dining room.

“Kitty?” Jack muttered, a sly grin crossing his features.

“Don’t ask,” Katherine said quickly, shooting him a look.

“Now,” Kate said, as they took their seats around the massive dining table. Jack looked around the spacious room with widened eyes. “Joseph’s still working, but he said not to wait for him to eat. He should be down in a moment.”

“A moment” turned into almost twenty minutes, in which they had mostly finished their meals, and Katherine had turned red more than once from the stories her brothers and mom felt needed to be shared.

Jack had just started to relax when Joseph Plumber entered the room, immediately commanding the attention in the room as he sat at the head of the table.

“Hello, Katherine,” he said, nodding at her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Not really, Dad,” Katherine said, setting her fork down. “I was here for dinner just last month.”

“Seems like longer,” her father commented.

She shook her head. “Nope. Just a month. Almost to the day.” She hoped they were almost done with the pleasantries. They’d never been good at small talk, she and her father.

Humming non-committedly, he turned to Jack, peering over his glasses at him. “And who is this?”

To his credit, Jack didn’t squirm under the scrutinizing gaze. “Jack Kelly, sir. I’ve been seein’ Katherine for a couple’a months now.”

Studying him a long moment, her father nodded and went back to his dinner. The tension slowly dissipated at the table, as Ralph and Joey picked back up the conversation they’d been having with Jack. And it was almost back to normal.

And then her father had to speak again.

“You know Katherine was nominated for an Investigative Reporters and Editors Award, don’t you, Jack?” he asked, a little _too_ nonchalantly.

Jack’s eyes widened a bit at being directly addressed by the patriarch and almost dropped his fork. “Yeah! Yeah, we were all real proud when she got nominated. ‘S’a sham, her not winnin’.” He cut a sympathetic look to her, wincing slightly.

She shook her head, ducking a bit. It still left a bitter taste in her mouth, even though she hadn’t really expected to win.

“What about you, Jack?” her father asked. “What do you do for a living?”

“Uh, well, my godmother, Medda, owns a theater over on the Upper West Side, an’ whenever she has a show, I build sets for the show an’ I’m her stage manager.” Joe raised his eyebrow in a manner Katherine recognized all to well.

It was the same look she got when she told him she wanted to be a reporter—the one of four Plumber children to actually want it—the disbelieving look, like he couldn’t believe she wanted to waste her time that way.

But Jack mistook the expression for interest, and kept talking. “Kinda a basic handyman, too. Go around fixin’ things ‘round the theater. An’ when ‘m not doin’ that, I do art commissions and I have a webcomic.”

“So, you make your living with doodles and menial labor?” he asked scathingly.

“ _Dad_.” Katherine was shocked. Her father hadn’t liked many of her boyfriends—the ones he met—but he’d _never_ been this openly hostile. Jack looked like he’d been struck between the eyes.

“Katherine, I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not _just_ anything. Jack works really hard on his art, and you don’t get to decide on your first meeting that what he does is—is _beneath_ you or whatever.”

The table went still as Katherine and her father stared each other down.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

They hadn’t had such an awkward silence since he first met her.

Dinner had ended shortly after the Incident, and now Jack was driving them back into the city. Katherine was sitting hunched in the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over her chest.

He kept scrambling for the right words to say, but came up empty each time. Finally, they came to the point where turning left would take them to her apartment, and right would take them to his.

Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, Jack asked, attempting to sound casual, “It’s still pretty early—d’ya wanna come over for a bit?”

He looked over at her to see her give a short, terse, nod. Sighing softly, Jack flipped on the blinker and turned right.

When they reached his apartment, he unlocked the door, allowing her to enter first. Crutchie had disappeared, probably gone to his room, and the only light on was the lamp on Jack’s desk.

Looking at Katherine, Jack wasn’t sure what to do. It’d been eight months since he’d met her, and he’d never seen that look on her face, lost and angry.

He was pretty sure she wasn’t angry with _him_ , which was a start, but he wasn’t sure what to do or say.

A thought struck him, then, and maybe it was crazy, but it could work.

“Hey,” Jack held out his hand towards her. “C’mon. ‘M gonna show ya my penthouse.”

She raised an eyebrow, confusion cracking the hurt, angry mask she’d been wearing since dinner. “Your…penthouse?”

“Yeah. C’mon, the view’s great.”

Katherine took his hand, allowing him to lead her through the apartment. She hesitated briefly at the doorway to his room, but took a cautious step through anyways.

Dropping her hand to push open the window, he swung a leg out onto the fire escape.

“Wait,” she said, looking at him incredulously. “Where are we going?”

“My penthouse.” Jack grinned and held out a hand to her. “Ya trust me, right?”

Katherine nodded, without hesitation this time, and took his hand again, following him out onto the fire escape and up to the roof.

Sweeping an arm across the roof, he said grandly, “Welcome to my penthouse, Katherine.”

She laughed, looking around. “This _is_ a fantastic view.”

Drifting to the edge of the roof, Katherine let go out of his hand to look down at the street below. Jack followed her, noticing that the tension in her shoulders relaxed a bit, but her hands were still balled into fists.

Coming up behind her, he set his chin on her shoulder, knocking her head gently with his. “So, your family’s nice,” he said, mostly truthfully. Ralph and Joe Jr. reminded him a little of Darcy, little high class, maybe, but alright for the most part. And Kate Plumber had been welcoming, not quite as open as Esther or Medda, but still with a motherly quality.

“I can see how ya get ‘long wit’ the boys so well, if that’s who ya grew up wit’.” 

Leaning her head against his, she smiled a little. “Yeah. With Dad always working, and Mom keeping up with the family social calendar, we only had the four of us to keep us entertained. Too many hours chasing each other around the house, playing too many make-believe games really brought us together... and drove us insane," she added with a laugh.

He laughed with her, imagining a smaller Katherine, tearin' through that big house after her brothers and sister, makin' up games for them all to play.

"An' ya mom seems ta like me okay," Jack mused. "So not bad for m'first Plumber family dinner."

Katherine scoffed. “Yeah, until my dad started grilling you about your job,” she grumbled, setting her clenched fists on the wall that edged the rooftop.

Jack shrugged around her. It woulda bothered him in high school, sure, someone puttin’ down his art so blatantly, but he’d since realized as long he was doin’ what he loved, enjoyed it, it didn’t matter what other people thought.

“Ya think I haven’t ever heard that before?” he asked, bringing his hands up to cover hers, smoothing his thumbs over her white knuckles. “‘M an art major in New York, I’ve met plenty’a doubtin’ Thomas’s in my day. ‘S’fine, Kath—”

She shook her head, her curls shifting against his chest. “No! It’s not okay, I’m not going to let my father talk to my boyfriend like that—”

They both froze at her words.

Recovering first, Jack ducked his head, hiding a smile in her shoulder. “Your boyfriend, huh?” he asked teasingly.

“—I mean… uhm, I just meant—” Katherine sputtered before shaking her head again. “Uh, yeah. Boyfriend. That—is that okay?” she asked, a little hesitantly, her hands uncurling under his.

“I could agree ta that,” he said seriously, loosening his grip on her so that she could turn to face him, but remain in the circle of his arms. “On one condition.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, even as a smile played at her lips. “And what condition is that?”

“You gotta be my girlfriend.”

Sliding her hands up his arms, Katherine pouted out her bottom lip as she thought. “Hmm,” she hummed, swaying closer to him. “I think that could be doable.”

His hands came up to brace against her back as he grinned. “Yeah?” he whispered, lips just barely brushing hers.

Her breath fanned over his lips when she said, just as softly, “Yeah,” and kissed him.

“But—” Kath broke away, turning her head when he tried to chase after her lips with his. “— _Jack_.” She put her hands on either side of his face, holding him still and insuring he look her in the eye.

“You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?” Her eyes begged him to believe her. “I love your art, and your sets, and I don’t think I’m better, or that my job is more respectable than yours, or anything like that—and I—I need you to know…” Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “Need you to know—“

“Hey,” Jack pulled her in a tight hug, smoothing his hands down her back. “I know. I know, Katherine.” Her dad may not be too crazy ‘bout him, but Kath wasn’t her father. He knew she didn’t look down her nose at folks.

She tightened her arms around him and they stood there, on the rooftop, wrapped around each other, under the stars. And it was like nothing else in the world existed.

_Would you care / If the Earth stopped spinning?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a habit of using different Newsies actors/actresses names as extras/OCs in my stories (there's been three in this story, did you catch them?), but Joey isn't for Joey Barreiro, who played Jack in the Toursies cast. Joe Pulitzer had two sons named Ralph and Joe Jr. (along with two other sons), but Joey seemed like a good name for his sister to call him.
> 
> Since the last two chapters were posted back to back, and the next one needs a little work, it may be pushed back a day, because clearly I don't know how schedules work ;)
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack sees a ghost from his past, Kath stays the night, and they both reveal a little bit about themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to arguably my favorite chapter, which means... A N G S T
> 
> Time jump: a month and a half since last chapter, 10 1/2 months since they've met (in this life)
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to my wonderful and talented friend Claire, for her birthday (also I definitely lied, I definitely put off posting this chapter so I could post on Claire's birthday...)

_I never said this out loud / But sometimes I just, I get scared_

It was Monday, and Jack had been called in to work

He didn’t normally come in to the theater on Mondays, but Medda was ready to get started on sets for her next show, and he had to check their inventory and get a copy of the next script from Medda.

He’d still been there when Katherine called him on her lunch break. She joined him at the theater, bringing him a sandwich and sitting opposite of him on the stage, organizing her article notes while he sketched out some ideas for the next play.

“Jack…?” she asked slowly.

He didn’t look up from the papers he had spread out in front of him. “Mm?”

“Is this—am I one of your Guttersnipes?”

He looked up, surprised, to see her turning around her laptop to show him the screen. “You read my comics?” Jack wasn't sure why he was shocked, Katherine'd told him she liked his art—he'd just assumed she meant the drawings he had lying around the apartment, or his little makeshift office here at the theater. 

Katherine shrugged like this wasn’t a startling revelation. “You read my articles.”

Jack shook his head. Those didn’t even compare. “Yeah, but that’s like… important. You’re an investigative journalist, your articles are in a newspaper. My comic’s just…me throwing pictures and words on a page.”

“That… is literally what I do, Jack,” she said, laughing a bit and scooting closer to him on the stage, careful not to disrupt his sketches. “Only difference is, I have an editor. You do it all on your own.”

Making a face, Jack shifted uncomfortably. “It’s nothin’—”

“It’s _not_ nothing,” Katherine insisted. “You’re incredible—I still can't believe the _Sun_ turned you down. Why haven’t you gotten with another newspaper or something? What happened to the meeting with the publisher?”

Jack had had a meeting with a publisher over the weekend, about printing his webcomic into a physical book. He’d gone in with high hopes.

It did _not_ end well, and he hadn’t said much to anyone about the meeting.

He shrugged. “They wanted me ta take it in a direction I wasn’t comf’table with. Wanted ta turn Racer’s character into a—a smokin’ ad, Crutchie into a helpless cause, an’ I didn’t want that.” Jack absently sketched out a line. “I know I don’t act like it, but... y'know, it’s not just a comic ta me. It was,  _is_ , a way for me ta cope, get out some not…great memories.”

Avoiding her eye, he stared at the sketches in front of him hard enough to burn a hole in them. He hadn’t talked to her—or anyone outside of Crutchie and Race—about those bad memories, about Snyder…

Her hand settled on his bicep, squeezing gently. “That’s what makes it so amazing.”

Covering her hand with his, Jack squeezed her hand back, silently thanking her for not asking the questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

“Anyways,” She let go of his arm to point at her screen again. “This one, here. Am I crazy, or does she resemble me?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. Kitty wasn’t a character he’d planned on including, but he hadn’t given it a second thought when a mouthy redhead ended up in his last comic.

“You…may have been an inspiration,” he admitted slowly, looking up to gauge her reaction.

Her face was neutral as she studied her caricature. Finally, she said, “I like it. But Kitty? If you didn't want me to find out, you should've been more subtle,” she added with a wink.

Jack huffed out a laugh, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. It wasn’t until now he’d realized he cared so much what she thought about the unintentional inclusion.

“Where’d you come up with a name like ‘the Guttersnipes’?” Katherine asked, looking at her laptop again, tracing a finger under the title panel.

Jack laughed, recalling the day he chose the title for his comic. “Sarah useta call us boys ‘ragamuffins’. Didn’t like the name too much though, sounded too cutesy, like the Peanuts, or somethin’. Guttersnipes’ just ‘nother word for it.”

Katherine laughed. “I like that too,” she said, sliding her laptop in her bag. “How much more do you have on these?” she asked, gesturing to the papers in front of him.

“More’n I’d like,” Jack admitted. It was just preliminary sketches, and he knew what Medda liked, but he didn’t want to give her garbage, which was what these felt like. “I’ll be done by tonight, though,” he assured her.

Monday night was their unofficial-slash-official date night, since he didn’t—usually—work for Medda on Mondays, and Katherine could get off early most weeks.

“Don’t rush yourself,” she said, stroking a hand down his arm. “Don’t stress it either, though, okay, babe?” She turned his face towards her to give him a stern look.

Jack gave her a half-smile, setting a hand on her knee and rubbing his thumb back and forth. They were both perfectionists when it came to their work, and had kept each other in check this last almost-year, made sure the other got sleep, and ate, and didn’t tear their hair out.

“I won’t,” he assured her, pecking a kiss to her mouth. “I’ll see you later?”

“Later,” Katherine agreed, kissing him again.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

After finally turning in some sketches to Medda, Jack was making a stop by the little grocery store around the corner from his and Crutchie’s apartment when someone knocked into him, practically shoving him to the ground.

“Hey!” Jack yelped, turning to the guy who’d bumped into him.

And froze.

The stupid nickname he and the other boys came up with for him back in the group home suddenly came back.

_Snyder. The Spider._

“Watch where you’re goin’,” Snyder sneered back, no flicker of recognition, before turning and walking away.

Jack’s throat felt too tight, his mouth was dry, his jaw was clenched, and he couldn’t seem to make his feet move in any direction.

He hadn’t seen Snyder since the Jacobs took him and Crutchie in fourteen years ago and even then it took two years for the nightmares to disappear. He had taken countless beatings—physical, emotional, verbal—from Snyder and his nephews, mostly to insure they weren’t beating up on Crutchie.

They’d made him feel lower than dirt, no more than a bug on the windshield, and he thought he’d finally gotten past it.

A bicycle messenger whizzed past him, calling out an “on your left!” as he did, startling Jack out of whatever daze he was in. Finally moving, he pressed his back against the wall of the nearest building. He squinted at the messenger, faintly relieved when he didn’t recognize the nondescript bike.

He couldn’t handle Race right now, even if he was the only other person who really understood what Jack went through.

Jack didn’t want someone who understood. He wanted someone who made him feel… safe.

With shaking hands, he pulled his phone from his pocket to call Katherine. 

Instead of ringing, there was a long pause before a quiet  _beep_ , and then what he’d dubbed Katherine’s “professional” voice was asking him to leave a message.

The panic set in deeper, and Jack hung up, quickly redialing again, only to be met with the same thing. Growling under his breath, he hung up, gripping his phone until his knuckles were white. 

Internally, he cursed at himself. It was stupid. He hadn’t seen Snyder in over a decade, and he was a far cry from the scrawny, mouthy thirteen-year-old Snyder liked to push around. 

So why did he feel like a kid again, like he wanted to throw up and cry at the same time?

His phone buzzed then, startling him so badly, he almost dropped it. Flipping it over, Jack was met with Katherine’s face, a silly selfie she’d taken when he left his phone alone for too long.

Clearing his throat so he’d sound normal, he swiped at the screen, accepting the call. 

“Hey, Kath,” he said in an overly cheerful voice.

 _“Hi, Jack.”_ Just the sound of her voice loosened the knot in his chest a little. _“Sorry, I was talking to a source. Is everything okay?”_

“‘Course, darlin'. Why d’ya ask?”

_“Because you sound funny.”_

Jack snorted. “That’s somethin' ev'ry guy likes to hear.”

_“I’m just saying, you sound... off.”_

“I’m fine, Ace.”

She hummed, a disbelieving sound, over the line, but didn’t say anything.

“Really, Katherine,” he tried to reassure. “I’m fine. ‘M gonna see you tonight, right?”

 _“Unless plans have changed in the last four hours,”_ she teased lightly.

“Ya mind stayin’ in tonight? We can order in, watch a movie...” They usually went out on date nights, but he was already gonna be twitchy enough having seen Snyder without a restaurant crowd.

_“Of course not, that sounds great. I’ll see you at six?”_

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, see ya—Kath?” he added quickly, hoping to catch her before she hung up.

She hadn’t. _“Yeah? I’m still here.”_

“Can you stay? Tonight, I mean?”

_“Charlie won’t mind?”_

Crutchie’d been privy to more than one overnight guest of Jack’s over the years. It wasn’t something he’d ever really cared for, a fact Jack usually ignored, but that had been years ago, and Crutchie had approved of Katherine from day one.

“Nah, Crutchie doesn’t mind. He’s workin’ late tonight, said he’d get Davey to drive him home.”

_“Okay. I’ll be over at six. Do I need to bring anything?”_

“Just you.”

Katherine laughed, and that knot loosened just a little bit more. _“Okay, Jack. I’ll see you tonight.”_

He smiled. “‘Bye Kath.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

After dinner and a good-natured argument about what movie to watch (one she let him win, he knew), Jack had just about shaken the feeling he’d been carrying around all afternoon.

It was still present, he could feel it niggling in the back of his mind, but from the moment Katherine walked through the door, it had quieted down. Jack almost forgot about it.

Almost.

As he drifted off, one arm curled loosely around Katherine, Jack began to dream.

His dream started off... well, not normally, but what was slowly becoming the new normal for him. 

_She gives him a disapproving look he's seen all too often, and he grins in response._

_"Why must you always complicate things that are really quite simple?" she demands, stepping primly over his chalk drawings. "Give me your hand, Les, and don't slouch!"_

_With another look of disapproval, she lifted her chin and, together, they jump, sliding from their reality to another._

_But instead of the world of the chalk drawing, he finds himself in a room full of people, wearing knight's armor._

_The voice of the singer resonates within him, the murmur of the party guests is all around him. He finds himself drawn to the large aquarium casting a blue glow._  

 _He takes a moment to admire the brightly colored fish, their scales flashing in the dim light. Idly, he wonders why someone would want an aquarium in the middle of a room. Crouching to look at the bottom of the tank, he peers through the glass and catches the eye of an angel._

_Well, she’s dressed as an angel, anyways, and appears to be admiring the aquarium as well. Slowly, they both straighten, never breaking eye contact. The angel smiles at him and he finds himself pressing closer to the glass._

_Suddenly, she’s whisked away from him, and he starts to run after her._

_The party melts away as his feet pound the ground. His chest feels tight, and he’s no longer running towards the angel._

_He’s running from his demons._

_Sneering voices echo around him, Snyder’s, Oscar’s, Morris’s._

_“Worthless.”_

_“Waste of space.”_

_“C’mon, fight back, ya wuss.”_

_He spins in a slow circle, the words pounding him down, knocking the air from his lungs like they were physical blows._

“Jack.”

_The last one doesn’t sound right. It’s too high, doesn’t sound like the others. He’s not sure how he knows, but it’s the angel’s voice. He wants to run towards it, but he’s frozen, takes the verbal beatings from the other voices._

“Jack.”

_He shakes his head, a cry of frustration tears from his throat._

“Jack.” Something was shaking his arm and Jack bolted upright, swinging wildly. He heard a yelp from beside him, and his eyes flew open.

His head snapped to the side, taking in Katherine next to him, who was holding her shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Kath…” he reached out a hand towards her, but stopped when she recoiled slightly. Jack curled his hand into a fist, throwing back the blanket and standing.

“No, Jack, wait—”

He shook his head, walking quickly to the open window and ducking out to the fire escape, taking the steps to the roof two at a time.

Staring out across the city, Jack berated himself. What was wrong with him? He saw one ghost from his past, and he was havin’ nightmares, lashing out when someone tried to wake him up?

God, he’d hit his _girlfriend_. He hadn’t taken a swing at someone since he almost gave Les a black eye and Mayer and Esther got him into therapy.

He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face, running it through his hair. Closing his eyes, Jack let the night air wash over him as he listened to the city.

A moment later, he heard Katherine climb up as well. She moved quietly across the roof, coming to stand next to him, careful not to touch him. Jack couldn’t look at her.

They were quiet for a long moment, looking out across the skyline.

“You know, after my sister died, I had nightmares for… years,” Katherine finally said, leaning against the low wall that enclosed the roof. “I’d see these— _horrible_ —scenes just play, over and over in my head, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t wake up, couldn’t make it stop.”

He looked at her then. She was barefoot, like he was, and wearing the hoodie she'd stolen from him months back, her hands hidden by the too-long, dark fabric.

Katherine touched him then, slowly reaching out to smooth down the hair above his ear. “And I used to scare my parents, because I’d just… lay there, absolutely still, hardly breathing, and I always took too long to wake up—”

“Ever hit anyone?” Jack muttered bitterly.

“You just caught my shoulder,” she said reassuringly.

“It coulda been worse—”

“But it wasn’t,” Katherine insisted, dropping her hand to cover his.

Jack looked down, turning his hand over slowly to twine his fingers with hers.

“How’d your sister die?” he asked quietly. Katherine—and her brothers, who he’d seen a couple of times since the dinner—had always had few words when it came to Lucy, barely speaking about when she was alive, let alone her death.

She was quiet a long moment, holding his hand, and Jack thought she might brush him off again. Then, to his surprise, Katherine started talking about Lucy.

“Did I tell you she worked at the _Sun_ with me?” He shook his head. “She was a photographer. Lucy was incredible—even nominated for a Pulitzer once.” She laughed a bit at that, though Jack didn’t understand why.

“And we were covering the same protest once, and a car plowed through the crowd. Lucy was hit. I was about twenty feet away from her. I covered the trial. Bastard got twenty-five years to life,” Katherine said, matter-of-factly, and he tightened his hand around hers.

“I didn’t know—”

“I know,” she said, smoothing her thumb over his. “I don’t talk about it with… anyone, really.”

She wasn’t asking for his story, simply telling him hers, showing him another layer of Katherine Plumber.

“My ma and dad died when I was nine. Car wreck,” Jack was almost surprised to hear himself say. But not as surprised as realizing he _wanted_ to tell her. “I stayed with Medda for a while, but the state decided she wasn’t ‘fit to be a guardian’ and she never really got approved to adopt.”

He was still bitter about that, not being allowed to stay with Medda. He got to see her after he left the group home, Mayer and Esther made sure of that, but those four years…

“So I went to a group home, like I toldja,” he continued, shaking his head to clear those thoughts. “And the guy who ran the group home… wasn’t the greatest. He—hit us, mostly me, ‘cause I’d say somethin’ when he started in on Race and Crutchie.”

This was the hard part, and Jack took a shuddering breath. Katherine sensed his uneasiness, squeezing his hand gently with both of hers. “And, it’s not even the beatin’s that bother me, it’s the, the way he used ta talk ta us. Put us down, made jokes about Charlie’s crutch. I swear—he’s the reason Tony even started smokin’.”

Race had given it up a few years back, when the smoking made it hard for him to dance or bike, but Jack never forgot the twelve-year-old kid with a self-destructive streak.

“And then… the Jacobs. Mayer and Esther took me and Crutchie in, would’ve taken in Race if they had the space. He got out not long after we did, thank God.”

Jack rubbed at his eye with a knuckle. He’d thought about it too much, what it’d be like if the Jacobs hadn’t taken them in, if the di Angelo’s hadn’t taken in Racer. But it didn’t happen. They were good—they were better.

“And I was better. It took a while, had nightmares for years, but I was doin’ better. And then today—” he took a deep breath, scratching his eyebrow with his thumbnail. “Today, I saw the guy. And it rattled somethin’ inside of me, I guess.”

Katherine was quiet a moment, her thumb tracing lightly over the back of his hand, before pulling his arm so it was around her shoulder, and sliding her arms around his waist, settling her head in the crook of his neck. “I’m okay, baby,” she whispered, her breath fanning across his skin. “You’re okay.”

Jack tightened his arm around her shoulders, leaning his head against hers. There was still some panic clinging to the edges of his conscious, but with her so close, all he could focus on was the sweet honey scent that followed her everywhere she went.

Almost three months ago he told Katherine that he could love someone like her.

He could.

He did.

“I love you,” Jack breathed, so soft he wasn’t sure she could hear. He almost wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear.

Katherine tensed slightly then relaxed again, and he felt her smile against his neck. She pulled away to look him in the eye. “I love you, too.”

Jack pulled her back, kissed her. It was sloppy, too many teeth because they were both smiling, and he mostly missed her mouth, but they shifted, aligning, fitting together like two puzzle pieces, and the last vestiges of his nightmare vanished.

_And then I see you again / And it’s like I’m protected_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Claire!! I hope there's enough of a balance of sweet and angst so that you don't hate me too much ;)
> 
> like Jack, I wasn't crazy about "ragamuffins", but "guttersnipes" sounded like something he'd use.
> 
> Fun fact: the bit about the selfie was supposed to be more significant—in part of my first draft, after Katherine had gotten Jack's number, there was a moment where she was staring at the default contact icon next to his name, and him having a picture of her for her contact was supposed to parallel that, show how far they'd come.
> 
> One last chapter, all. How we feeling??
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!
> 
> ***
> 
> Inspirations for past lives:
> 
> Mary Poppins/Bert—Mary Poppins  
> Romeo/Juliet—Romeo and Juliet (1996)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Katherine tells Jack, and he still doesn't remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to... the last chapter.
> 
> Time jump: ~~time is an illusion and is meaningless and I kinda screwed up my timeline anyways, so who cares?~~ 2-3 weeks from the last chapter. 11ish months since they've met.

_I admit, I don’t know when / Or how time will pass til then_

It was a habit for them, curled up on the couch on their free nights, him sketching set designs or working on his comic and commissions, her organizing notes for her article and writing.

They’d been quiet for almost an hour, working on their projects. Katherine had been so tuned into her own little world, she hadn’t noticed Jack had gotten up until he was leaning over the back of the couch, one arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders, his mouth on her neck.

“Ja-ack,” she whined a little, trying to twist away. “I have to finish this…”

“So finish it,” he said between kisses. “I’m not stoppin’ ya.”

Katherine rolled her shoulder in an attempt to knock him off, but she only succeeded in barely glancing his chin, and he moved higher to the spot behind her ear. 

“Don’t you have a comic to finish, _babe_?” she asked through slightly gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jack shook his head slightly, his stubbled chin scraping against her neck and she dropped her head back against the couch (in frustration, she told herself). “‘S done,” he said, his nose nudging her hair out of the way as he moved lower.

Shaking her head a bit and sighing softly, Katherine brought her hand up to slid in his hair, deciding her notes could wait another moment. 

“I’m glad I found you,” she said softly, toying lightly with the soft strands of his hair. 

“I thought  _I_  found  _you_ ,” he said. “‘Member? I was the charmin’ hero who walked ya back ta work.” 

Katherine laughed lightly at that. “However it worked out. I’m glad we found each other.”

Jack leaned forward so he could kiss her cheek. “Me too, darlin',” he said, softly, leaning his head against hers. 

She closed her eyes a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. The last almost-year had been a rollercoaster, and sometimes it still felt like a free-fall, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

“Okay, really,” she said, pulling herself together, twisting her neck away. He followed her, smacking a kiss to her collarbone. “I have to finish this, Jack!” she laughed.

He stilled a moment, and Katherine thought he was finally allowing her to work. Then he tightened his arm, pulling her closer, and blew a raspberry on her neck.

“ _Jack_!”

Laughing, he let her go, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before circling back to sit next to her on the couch. She shifted so her back was against the armrest, kicking at his arm for distracting her. Jack just laughed again, catching her foot and holding it in his lap.

He allowed her to finish typing up her notes, smoothing his hand under the cuff of her jeans, thumb circling her ankle.

“You know…” Katherine said thoughtfully a moment later, shutting her laptop after saving her notes. “It’s late.”

Jack nodded slowly. “Yes, it is.”

“And tomorrow’s Saturday,” she said, setting her laptop on the coffee table.

“That sounds about right.”

“And you have clothes here…”

“Katherine?” His thumb stopped its movement on her ankle.

“Mm?” She looked up at him innocently.

“Are you asking if I want to stay the night?” Jack raised an eyebrow, almost challenging her.

Katherine raised her own eyebrow back. “Are you saying yes?”

Sliding a hand up her calf, Jack tilted his head thoughtfully. “I could be… persuaded,” he mused, leaning closer to her.

Rolling her eyes a bit, Katherine bit back a smile. Leaning towards him as well, she said, “Yeah? How about… now?” Cupping his chin, Katherine tilted his head down and kissed his forehead.

He twisted his mouth. “Eh, not yet.”

She kissed his cheek. “Now?”

“Nope.”

She pressed a kiss to his other cheek. “ _Now_?”

“Ya know, I’m just… not convinced,” Jack said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Really? What about… now?” her lips brushed his slightly before she kissed him fully.

He pulled away, nodding a bit. “Yeah. That did it.”

Katherine grinned. “Oh, yeah? That’s what did it?” He nodded seriously, and she laughed, pressing her smiling mouth to his. Then she stood from the couch, pulling him with her.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine woke up early the next morning, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Carefully, so she wouldn’t wake Jack, she slipped out from under the covers, padding into the kitchen.

Pushing her hair out of her face, she started the coffeemaker, frowning at it as it heated.

Katherine hadn’t thought about it in a while, honestly. After the initial shock of regaining many, _many_ , memories from her previous lives, they retreated mostly into the back of her mind, only resurfacing when something triggered it—like a sense of déjà vu.

But last night she’d had the first memory dream since meeting Jack (again).

Picking up her mug, Katherine sat at the table with the paper, flipping through it absently, still thinking about her dream.

It hadn’t been one of her favorite memories. She’d been shallow, easily influenced by her parents. After she promised she would wait for him, she turned around and married the first society man her mother approved of. They’d carefully avoided going to his house, ignored invites to his lavish parties.

But she’d worn down after a while, finally went to see him again, and they fell back into old routines.

Right down to her turning her back on him.

It wasn’t until after he was shot, dead, that her memories came back, and she spent the rest of her days in a loveless marriage, hoping she’d get another chance to see him.

Katherine set her mug down too hard, the dull thud of ceramic on wood too loud in the kitchen. She hadn’t even realized she’d finished her coffee, thinking so hard about how she’d let their story end with them angry at each other.

“It’s too early for ya ta be lookin’ like you’re thinkin’ too hard, Ace.”

Katherine looked up, startled, to see Jack standing in the doorway to her kitchen, barefoot and sleep-rumpled.

“Hey,” she said as he ambled into the kitchen. “Coffee’s on.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Bless you.” She watched him over the paper, moving around the kitchen comfortably, not having to ask where the mugs were, or if she wanted more coffee (she always wanted more—Katherine could have a continuous IV of coffee and it still wouldn’t be enough)

Setting her mug in front of her and dropping a kiss to the top of her head, Jack picked up a section of the paper. “Ya done with this?”

“That part, yeah. There’s a really good piece on Medda’s show that Liana did.”

“Miss Medda will love that.” He flipped through the paper, sipping his coffee.

Something about him in her kitchen, acting like he was at home, made her stomach twist again. She hadn’t been fully forthright with him, and maybe it was her dream last night, but she felt like she had to tell him the whole story.

And hope he believed her.

“Did you know—” Katherine only jumped slightly as his hand slid in her hair and his thumb brushed lightly at the spot between her eyes “—ya get a crease right there when you’re thinkin’ too hard?”

She leaned her head into his hand, smiling a bit. “Yes, I believe you’ve mentioned that.”

Moving his thumb to brush her cheek, Jack narrowed his eyes in concern. “What’s got’cha lookin’ worried, Katherine?”

Katherine shook her head. “Just a… weird dream.”

“Ya sure?”

She should’ve told him earlier. Before their first date, before their first kiss, before they slept together, before they said ‘I love you’, before they had a chance to get this close. It was almost a year later, and there was so much to lose now.

But she had to tell him.

Biting her lip, she shook her head again, taking his hand and holding it in both of hers. He opened his mouth to say something, but Katherine squeezed his hand, trying to find the right words to say. She’d always been better at expressing herself in writing, but verbally?

Not so much.

“So,” she said slowly. “Remember how I told you I wasn’t really in the theater that day to interview Medda?”

He gave her a cocky grin. “Yeah, I remember. I knew it was really ‘cause you just couldn’t resist me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, yes, I was really there to see you, not Medda. But… that’s not everything.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. “What else was there?”

Katherine took a deep breath. “Okay. This is going to sound crazy. Do you believe there’s such a thing as reincarnation?”

He looked taken aback, like that wasn’t what he was expecting. “Whaddaya mean, Ace?”

“Like… After you die, you come back, again and again, living different lives for… forever, I guess.”

Jack shrugged, squinting at her a little, but still listening. “I guess I thought it was somethin’ only certain religions believed in.”

“I did too, but…” she hesitated, before dropping his hand and standing to retrieve the copy of the  _Sun_  with her Newsies article from her laptop bag, where she’d stuck it all those months ago. “Look at this. The boy in the middle.”

He looked at it briefly before handing it back to her, shrugging. “What about him?”

How could he not see it? “Jack. He looks—”

“Yeah, okay, he kinda looks me.” Jack agreed, looking confused. “An’ those other people look kinda like the guys. So? What does that have to do with why you came lookin’ for me after we met?”

“ _His_ name is Jack Kelly.” Katherine pointed at the name under the headline. “And look at the byline. Katherine Plumber.”

His brow furrowed. “And… what? You think we were them?”

“Yes!”  _Finally, this was it; this is how he remembers_. “Exactly. Jack, we’ve lived for thousands of years. Coming back again, and again, and we keep finding each other. Well,” she amended. “Not always, but, like, eighty…three percent of the time.”

Jack’s brow furrowed, confused. “Back up, Ace. What are ya talkin’ about?”

“We’ve met before. _Hundreds_ of times.” Katherine began ticking them off on her fingers. “Once at a resort in ’63. We were criminals in Texas. We were even on the Titanic. This, here—“ she pointed at the article again “—was 1899. I was Joseph Pulitzer’s daughter, and you sold the papers as a Newsie.”

Chuckling a bit, Jack said, “Yeah, okay, Kath.”

“What?” She looked up at him, a little surprised. That wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting.

The smile dropped from his face and his eyebrows drew together again. “Wh—you’re serious?”

Katherine nodded, slowly. “Jack, you’ve known me for a year—longer, even—do you think I would make something like that up?” She leaned forward reaching for his hand again. “Please, just think about it. Doesn’t this feel familiar, like maybe we’ve been here before?”

Jack was quiet a long moment his face unreadable as he thought. Then, suddenly, there was a shift in his features.

But instead of looking happy, or even like he remembered, he looked angry. “So that’s it,” he muttered darkly, pulling his hand from hers, standing and walking away from her.

 _No, wait, where are you going? Away is bad, come_  back _, towards me._ “Jack—?”

His back to her, Jack scrubbed a hand down his face. “Knew this was too good to be true.”

What  _was to good to be true?_  “Jack, I know it’s hard to believe, it took me a while to get used to the idea, but,  _please_ , you have to believe—”

“What is this to you?” He demanded, whirling around to face her. “For real? Are you interested in me, or this theory? Does this—does it mean anything?”

“Of course it does—”

“No!” he cut her off. “No, don’t say it like it happens every day. Girls like you don’t go for guys like me.”

Katherine didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. History really repeated itself, didn’t it?

“Jack, please listen to me. It’s not like it sounds—”

“Oh, really?” His voice was hard, but low. Katherine almost wished he’d yell. “‘Cause it sounds like ya only went out wit’ me ‘cause ya think we were ‘s’posed’ ta be together, not ‘cause ya wanted to.”

She shook her head quickly, her hair whipping around her. “No, no, I swear, that’s not it. I lo—”

“No.” His eyes were hard. “No, I—I can’t be ‘round here right now.” Shoving his feet in his shoes and yanking on his jacket, Jack turned to the door, while Katherine sat frozen in her chair, trying to figure out where everything went so wrong.

“I’ll call ya later, Katherine,” he said lowly, without looking at her.

The door slammed behind him, The door slammed behind him, breaking her out of the spell she was under, and Katherine dropped her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. 

She should’ve told him sooner.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

It was Monday and Jack couldn’t focus on his comic.

Groaning, he dropped his head to his desk. Every time he put pencil to paper, _her_ face ended up starin’ back at him. And he couldn’t sleep, either, because he kept havin’ those weird dreams that felt too real.

Jack still wasn’t ready to fully buy into her theory, but his dreams were getting harder and harder to ignore.

He stared at the article he hadn’t remembered taking from Katherine, at the grainy picture, as he recalled his dreams from the last couple of nights.

_He’s sitting around at a table, playing cards with her and the boys. She’s better than he thought, a worthy opponent for even him._

_“Two kings,” he says, laying his cards on the table._

_“B-bullshit…?” she sounds uncertain, and he looks up to see Race tugging his ear, Crutchie too, and Davey shaking his head slightly._

_“Bullshit!” he crows, jumping up and throwing his cards down, pointing an accusing finger at all of them. “Ya cheaters! The only trustworthy one here is Elmer, an’ he’s_ asleep _!”_

_He makes to storm off indignantly, and hears her laugh at his dramatics._

***

_She’s in a wedding dress, he’s in a tux, and they’re on a boat, feeling the spray of the waterfall on their faces._

_They knock on the captain’s door, ask him to marry them on the boat, and he does._

_Her veil is torn a bit, he’s got only half a tie, and this definitely isn’t the wedding they planned, but they’re happy._

_They stand at the bow of the boat, and it feels familiar somehow, but he can’t concentrate on much more than the woman next to him._

“Hey. It’s… Monday,” Crutchie remarked as he walked in the door, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hi Monday, I’m dad,” Jack said flatly, his head still on his desk.

“Oooh, dad jokes. Real cuttin’ wit,” Crutchie said drily, and Jack heard him drop onto the couch and his crutches clattering to the floor. “I meant, it’s Monday, aren’t you s’posed to be out with Kath What’s up? She couldn’t get off tonight?” he asked.

Jack closed his eyes. He’d managed to avoid Crutchie most of the weekend, not wanting to talk about the odd fight he’d had with Katherine. “Nah—well, I dunno. Haven’t talked ta her since Saturday mornin’.”

“Why?”

“We… had a fight, I guess?”

“Bad enough that ya haven’t talked in two days?” Crutchie sounded like he didn’t believe him.

Jack grunted. A moment later, a pillow from the couch hit him in the back. “What?”

“Talk ta me, Jackie,” Crutchie insisted. “You an’ Kath have had your spats, but nothin’ that wasn’t fixed in a couple’a hours. What happened?”

Lifting his head a little, but still not turning around, Jack said, “She told me some story about… reincarnation, or somethin’, said we were meant to come back and meet each other.”

Crutchie was quiet a moment. “Isn’t… Isn’t that a good thing?”

Jack spun in his chair to look at him incredulously. “How is this s’posed to be a good thing?”

His roommate gave him a look as he held Charcoal. “Think about it, Jack. Ya always have someone waitin’ for you, even if they don’t know it. That’s good, ain’t it?”

“So you believe her reincarnation theory?”

Crutchie shrugged. “My ma usedta tell me stories like that, seemed to believe in it. And it’d explain your dreams, wouldn’t it? How they feel more like memories, and how they’re all different.”

Jack scoffed. “So I s’pose you think I’m Jack Kelly.”

Crutchie pursed his lips, quirking an eyebrow. “Uhm. Well that _is_ ya name, Jackie.”

Shaking his head exasperatedly, Jack stood to hand the paper to Crutchie. “No, I mean _that_ Jack Kelly, this newsboy from 1899.”

“It does kinda look like ya,” Crutchie mused. “And that one looks a little like Dave. And that kid could be a dead ringer for Les at that age. Wow,” he squinted at the paper, holding it closer to his face. “This is spooky. Historical doppelgangers.”

Waving his hand as he sat back in his desk chair, Jack said, “Yeah, see, _that’s_ what I was hopin’ Kath was showin’ me this for.”

“And instead she told you essent’ally you two were soulmates, and you had more’n just this life together. Yeah, I could see how that’d be a bummer.” Their cat began swatting at his ear and Crutchie asked. "Didja give her a chance to explain?"

"Explain what?"

Gently pushing Charcoal away from his head, Crutchie gave him a disbelieving look. "She toldja the two'a you were reincarnated an' ya—?"

"Left." Jack tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. Another pillow hit him, this time in the chest. "What tha hell, Charlie?" he demanded, throwing the pillow back, scaring Charcoal off of Crutchie's lap. "Quit throwin' stuff at me!"

"How ya've managed ta keep Kath around this long, I'll never know," Crutchie said, rolling his eyes and standing to leave the room.

Jack turned to call over his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

Crutchie didn’t turn as he answered. “Gotta date with Rosie. Call me when this Jack Kelly gets his head screwed on right and apologizes to Katherine for bein’ an ass.”

Pausing a moment, Jack yelled back. “You’re a little shit, y’know?”

“Yup!” Crutchie’s bedroom door shut behind him, and Jack swiveled slowly in his chair, thinking about what his friend had said.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever, knowing you had someone to come back to every life. But Jack _didn’t_ know. He didn’t know that Katherine “should’ve” been here, waiting for him, or whatever. He wasn’t sure what to believe, between the dreams and Katherine’s theory.

What he did know, was that there was one person who could answer any questions, calm the whirlwind of emotions spinning in his head.

Jack pulled out his phone, clicking through to the last text conversation he’d had with Katherine.

Typing and retyping his message, he finally settled on _penthouse tonight?_

Her reply came almost immediately. _What time?_

_7_

He dropped his phone on the desk, choosing to go on up to the roof rather than wait for Katherine to reply or show up at the door. She had a key, she could let herself in.

Jack sat on the roof, staring out at the restless city as the sun went down and the building lights went up, brightening the street before it had a chance to go dark.

Tilting his head back, he thought about all the time they’d spent on this roof. After dinner with her folks, the night after he saw Snyder, date nights spent up here when the weather was good, the night they tried stargazing but couldn’t see anything and ended up falling asleep.

Jack’s not sure how long he was up there before he heard Katherine climb up to the roof. Closing his eyes a moment, he sucked in a sharp breath before he turned to face her.

She looked about as tired as he felt, wearing his hoodie, hands stuffed in the pocket, her hair scraped back in a ponytail.

They watched each other a long moment, him warily, her hopefully.

Finally, he spoke. “I still dunno if I believe in this reincarnation thing.”

“That’s fine,” Katherine said quickly. “I mean… it’s true, but it was a lot to dump on you all at once, and I shouldn’t have.” She slid her hands out of the pocket, looked like she was about to reach for him, but stopped, twisting her fingers together instead. “Do you… have questions about it?”

Jack really didn’t want to get in this. But as much as he hated the thought of discussing this crazy theory, he hated the thought of not ever knowing more. “When—when did you start believing we’d been… reincarnated, or whatever?”

“About a week after I first ran into you,” she answered immediately. “That’s when I got my memories back.”

He wanted to be angry, but for some reason, he just… couldn’t. “So for tha better part of a year, ya just… sat on this? Decided not ta tell me or anythin’?”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but bit her lip, simply nodding. “I tried telling Darcy, but I don’t think he ever believed me. He’s probably forgotten by now.

A thought occurred to him. “And your Other Jack—”

“Was you… _Is_ you?” Katherine shook her head, shrugging helplessly. “Whatever. And I know I should’ve told you earlier, but I was afraid of… Well. This. That you wouldn’t believe me, and we had— _have_ —something really good, and I didn’t want to screw that up, but that’s not really an excuse…”

She was starting to ramble, like she did when she was nervous. He interrupted her gently. “Jus’… tell me hones’ly. Didja only start comin’ ‘round ‘cause’a this theory? Or didja really wanna know _me_?”

Katherine shook her head quickly. “You can’t remember this now, but we’re not always the same when we come back. Sometimes we don’t find each other. And in all those lives, when we didn't stay together, it was because one of us didn't remember, but—" she cut herself off this time, taking a deep breath. "I didn’t lie. I’m _not_ living in the past. I wanted to know _you_ , in _this_ life, with me as _this_ Katherine, you as _this_ Jack.”

Jack studied her a long moment. She didn’t seem crazy, and she’d never given him reason to believe that she’d be lying.

He was almost afraid to ask the question on the tip of his tongue.

“And? How d’ya feel, ‘bout this me?”

Katherine shook her head, her eyes bright even as she smiled sadly. “Don’t you get it? I went for you every time. In every life we met. You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly. Time and time again. I never saw you coming, and… I never knew how to resist you.”

His voice was low, uncertain. “For sure?”

She took a careful step towards him. He didn’t step back.

“For sure,” she said. Closing the gap between them, Katherine took his face in her hands and kissed him. Hesitantly, his hands came up to bracket her waist as he kissed her back.

Their lips met, and it was like everything slowed for a fraction of a second, then picked up speed, whirling around, as if the world had started spinning out of control.

_“Why’s your name come first?”_

_“It rolls off the tongue better, there’s a melody to it,” she insists._

_Their hostages are gettin’ antsy, and he gestures the gun at them, yelling. “HEY!” They freeze, and one man even faints. Rolling his eyes, he looks back at her. “We will talk about this when we get home.”_

***

_They’re at his back, likely pointing blasters at his head, and he slowly raises his hands over his head. They can’t see her, with his body shielding hers, and she uses it to her advantage._

_Slowly, she pulls her own blaster from her belt, gives him a look, a warning._

_He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “I love you.”_

_“I know.”_

***

_The Autons are approaching her, and her back’s against the wall. He couldn’t very well leave her alone._

_He runs across the basement floor, skids to a stop, and grabs her hand. She jerks her head towards him, eyes wide and fearful. He can’t help but grin, the adrenaline coursing through him. “Run!”_

And a thousand more, playing out in the space of a second.

Jack’s eyes flew open and he pulled away from Katherine. She tried following him, but he took another step back, fingers brushing his lips.

“Jack?”

He brought his gaze up, staring at her with wide eyes. “Katherine. _Katherine_ , Ace, angel, love… _I remember_.”

Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and Jack pulled her close, kissing her like it was the first time.

She’d found him.

_But I will see you again / This I know_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: most of the first little bit was written as a drabble on tumblr (it wasn't supposed to be, it happened by accident--like most things did in this fic) for my lovely friend Claire. and one of things I had struggled with in this fic was naming it... I went through DOZENS of names, some serious, some not (once, in a fit of writer's block, I came up with completely ridiculous alternative titles for the Monstrosity Fic)
> 
> and suddenly, the stars aligned, something clicked, and I wrote the line "I'm glad I found you." and I just kinda went "shit. wow. that's perfect. 'Found You'."
> 
> thus, a title was born;)
> 
> also, I seriously considered splitting this chapter in two, with Kath's part as one chapter, Jack's as another, but it didn't feel right to split up the lyric... and so you all wouldn't yell at me;)
> 
> *rolls over and dies because this is finally finished*
> 
> To put this is perspective, the first scene I wrote was Jack and Kath meeting, and I wrote that before I even started "Heart on the Trigger"... it's been written, rewritten, edited a thousand times (some of it while I was posting)
> 
> Anyways, it's has been truly a labor of love, and I'm so excited to have finally shared it!! Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ for sticking with me on this ride, and for anyone who listened to rant about this on tumblr, and for all your kind comments and kudos. 
> 
> Special shoutout to Grace, who has listened to me complain about this for months and read everything I threw at her and was basically the best human ever <3
> 
> I'm not quite ready to say goodbye to this 'verse, and no one's told me they were sick of this yet, so keep an eye out for more!
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. Peace, love, and sanity!
> 
> ***
> 
> Inspirations for past lives:
> 
> Daisy/Gatsby—The Great Gatsby  
> Andie/Ben—How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days  
> Jim/Pam—The Office  
> Leia/Han Solo—Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back  
> Bonnie/Clyde—Bonnie and Clyde (the musical, with Jeremy and Laura)  
> Nine/Rose—Doctor Who


End file.
